Eden: Season One
by Panda musume
Summary: Quiet, ten year old Eden is an orphan at a survivor's camp. Blending into the environment, watching the days pass by in a world gone to hell. But when her group brings back a police officer instead of a Dixon, things start changing. carlxoc (much much later) Rated T. Terrible summary, i know
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey, so this is my 1st walking dead fanfic, so forgive me 4 any oocness, etc, etc, stuff like that xD

Critiques r greatly appreciated

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD

Enjoy~

* * *

Eden: Season one

Ch. 1: Walkers, Orphans, and a world gone to hell

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_Orphan_. I never really minded being called that. I like the title. Free. Not like the days where my dad used to slam me into the walls of the house. Not like the days where my mom always vented her anger on me with a wine bottle. Not like the days where they wished I didn't exist. Not like the days where they thought everything would've been so much better if I was a boy.

Oh well, they're gone now.

I sit up from my makeshift bed of blankets, brushing my fingers through my knotted, long, brown hair. Mom used to do my hair all the time, until I was five. When everything was still normal. When my parents didn't hit me. When I didn't have those scars.

I walked through the RV with my backpack, moving to the bathroom to change into a pair of jeans and a loose, grey shirt that Lori gave me, stuffing the clothes I had just worn into my backpack. I slide my knife into my brown boot. It was a present that my aunt gave me before we got separated when the apocalypse came. She was the only one who was nice to me, but she was bit and dead. But not walking around eating people.

Because I put her down.

May she rest in peace.

I walk out of the RV, and I feel the sun touch my skin. It's a good day, kind of humid. The smell of grass, the rustling of the trees, the singing of birds.

The only thing that lingers in my mind is the fact that Daryl's coming back today.

And he's going to be pissed when he finds out about Merle.

I instinctually pick at my fingernails, scraping at the dirt underneath.

* * *

I don't really spend time with the kids in this camp. Either they're too busy to notice me or they're just ignoring me, I honestly don't care. I like spending time alone. I did that a lot when I was little.

Dale eyes me from the rooftop with his binoculars, and gives me a wave. I wave back from the log I'm sitting on, balancing the book on my lap, 'Pride and Prejudice.' One of the books that I quickly picked off of my shelf when this world went to hell.

Bad choice.

I like Dale. He was one of the adults that understood me. Dale listens, and he listened more than my parents ever would. He understands why I don't play with the other kids. He knows that I'm smart. That I won't do anything stupid. That I can survive.

Dale understands when others just look away.

A shadow blocks the sun from going into my eyes. Good shadow. I flip a page, until the shadow says hi. I almost flinch, _almost_, until I realize the shadow is Carl.

Nice, friendly Carl.

"Hi."

I close my book. "Hi."

I want my shade back.

Carl looks at my cover, his shadow covering me again. "Do you wanna play tag with us?"

I never really talked with Carl since I came to this camp, but everyone seems to like him, and Rick and Lori are nice parents.

I'm jealous of that.

I fidget in my seat. Maybe, just maybe, we can be friends.

_Maybe._

"Us?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Sophia, Eliza, and Louis." He lists them automatically, naturally. My brain echoes an "oh" in my mind. I felt stupid all of a sudden.

I remember my mother's words. _You can't play until you get a perfect score. _

"Sure." I walked back into the RV to stuff my book into my backpack, and then I met up with Carl, who was being scolded by Lori. I wait until Lori shows a face of resignation, and says something about "staying where I can hear you." Carl bounds towards me with a big smile on his face.

Must be nice to have a mother like her.

"Ready?"

I shrug, quirking a part of my mouth into a weak smile. "Let's go."

* * *

It doesn't take me too long to remember their names. Carl, Sophia, Eliza, and Louis. They were all my age, except Sophia.

I let a small smile tug at my lips as we partnered up and ran. It was nice to act like a kid again.

I was always good at tag. To be specific, I was always good at hiding, blending in with the environment, controlling my breathing, making sure my presence was erased. It was a honed skill since I was six. It was what I did when my parents were home.

I was hiding under a bush with Sophia, the girl that always held a doll, clutching it like it was a lifeline.

Childish.

I didn't say anything about it though. I used to have a bunch of dolls until mom came home one day and threw them away.

Sophia was nice to me, and on my first day, she offered me a can of beans. Although I don't think she remembers that. I hear a yelp from her, I accidentally elbowed her arm. I give her an apologetic look and she gives me a small smile.

Sweet Sophia. Nice Sophia. Kind Sophia. Girly Sophia.

My lips curl into a frown. Because I know she won't last in this world.

I focus my attention to the front.

"Is she gone?" She asks.

Shrugging my shoulders, I lift several leaves with my hands, scanning the area to see if she was still there. "Yeah."

We crawl out of the bushes slowly, and quickly scurry to a different hiding spot. I watched out for Eliza's footprints. Her tracks. My aunt taught me how to track when I visited her house. Her family, as I remember, came from a long line of trackers and hunters.

Too bad she's dead now.

Sophia and I quietly run to a different bush. I check to see if it has thorns. _None_. Perfectly safe, perfect camouflage for us.

Except for the fact that there was a walker here.

* * *

I didn't expect Sophia to scream that loudly. Carl, Louis, and Eliza run in our direction. Sophia was running towards her mom by the time they arrived. She could've been quieter. If it had noticed us it would've torn us into pieces by now.

I heard Carl calling his mom, and tuned him out.

Because I didn't have anyone to call to.

My eyes were transfixed on the walker before me. I shudder as the crunching sounds grew louder.

I didn't leave. I was frozen on the spot, I was scared. _Terrified. _Walkers scare me. My parents scared me. The dead scare me. I imagine it turning around and sinking its teeth into my neck.

Beads of sweat start forming in my balled fists. My legs shake, my breathing turning irregular, and then I remember my aunt's words to me on our very last hunting trip.

"_The best way to kill one of these animals is to sneak up on them when they don't expect it. Make sure to be quiet. Then you swing your knife and get it right when it least suspects."_

Time seemed to move slower for me. The knife in my boot seemed to be really urging me to pull it out, to let me wield it. So I do. I wrap my fingers around the handle and feel a rush something pool into my stomach. I slowly creep up behind the walker, cutting off my breathing entirely, masking my presence. _Just one more step. Just one more step._

My knife is raised high into the air, prepared to strike. My shaking legs regress to a tremble.

Good knife.

Just as I bring it down to the unsuspecting walker, I hear Carl's voice just ahead of me, loud and clear.

"Eden!"

My concentration is gone and my eyes dart back to the still distracted walker. The fear is back, my breaths turn shallow, and my feet are frozen.

_I'm scared._

The next thing I see is Rick, Shane, Dale, and Jim run by me with weapons in hand. Lori snatches my arm and pulls me away, asking if I was ok.

I nod.

* * *

I sneak a look at the severed walker's head, and then Lori pulls me and Carl away from it. I see Sophia being coddled by her mother, and Eliza and Louis with theirs', probably asking if they were okay.

It reminded me of my aunt. I remember the time when I fell out of a tree. I broke a leg, and I remember my lip was split open. Dad wasn't home that day, and mom just watched me fall, laughing as she chugged a can of beer, all while wearing those fancy clothes of hers'.

The only one that helped me was my aunt, who thank god, was staying over our house.

"_Are you ok?"_

"_How are you feeling?"_

"_Do you want some water?"_

"_The doctors said you'll be fine."_

She was the only one who asked if I was alright before the apocalypse came.

I picked the dirt from under my fingernails. I shouldn't be thinking about her now. She's gone, the world went to hell.

Dead.

I hear a rustle from the bushes, which jostles me out of my thoughts. I lift my head up to look at it. The thing that prevents me from digging deeper is a man. A man carrying a bunch of squirrels. _Nice. _I see him walking out of the woods, holding a crossbow. And my breathing turns shallow again.

Daryl is back.

And he is going to be pissed once he finds out about Merle.

* * *

A/N: So, how was it? Good? Bad? It's my 1st twd fanfic so im curious xD

Til next time~


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Ch 2 is up!

**QuirkyFox, **thank u! **green angel01, **thx ^^, &amp; I don't mind ur rant xD I don't like stories like that either xD the main character would be 2 pitiful if that were to happen xD, **BlondeKatniss, **thank you! ^^

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD

Enjoy~

* * *

Eden: Season One

Ch. 2: Daryl's back

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I see him walking towards us, his crossbow slung behind his shoulder, and then I remember the deer in the forest with those arrows sticking out of its body.

_Oh._

"Merle!" He yells his brother's name and walks towards the fire, setting his crossbow down. "Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel!" For a moment, I distract myself with the squirrel until my eyes sets on him again as he talks about stewing them up.

I see Shane, Jim, Dale, Rick, Glenn, and the rest heading this way with their bloody pickaxes and shovels.

Lori kneels down and strokes Carl's hair. She smiles at me. A mother's smile. "Why don't you and Eden go inside the RV?"

I don't complain, because I know this is adult stuff. I trudge to the RV with Carl as Lori stands by the door. Once I'm in the RV I see Sophia, Eliza, and Louis snap their attention to me and Carl when we walk in.

I ignore them and sit on my bed of make-shift blankets.

* * *

Outside, I hear yelling.

I never liked that.

Curious, I sat up from my blankets and crawled onto a chair that had a clear view of the window. Carl copies what I did and I scoot over so that we share the chair. And pretty soon, Sophia, Eliza, and Louis joins in by sitting on a table, all of us watching what lies beyond this window.

And I hear yelling.

Lots of it.

I hear Daryl, and I hear Rick, and I hear Shane. They're fighting, and my body slightly fidgets when Shane has him in a headlock. Rick is talking to him, telling him how Merle couldn't play along well with the others.

"It's not Rick's fault." I hear another voice join in. T-Dog. One of the few names I still bother to remember.

I hear them talking, and me and the other kids strain our ears really hard to catch bits and pieces.

I hear T-Dog tell Daryl that he put a padlock on the door, 'so that the geeks couldn't get at him.'

_Merle is alive?_ My stomach slightly sinks at this, and I hate myself for feeling that way.

"That's gotta count for something." I hear Rick say.

What does he mean by that?

I wince as I hear Daryl's voice pierce through the air.

"Hell with alla ya'll!" He looks shaky, and he shouts at Rick to tell him where his brother is so he can go get him.

I pick at my fingernails. _Please stop yelling._

"He'll show you." I hear an unexpected voice. _Lori's _voice.

"Isn't that right?" Her voice is shaky, and I can tell because that's what happens to me when my parents tell me to apologize.

I can't see Rick's face, but I catch Rick saying something that makes me share a glance with Carl.

"I'm going back."

I keep staring out the window.

* * *

Carl and his mom are talking in his tent, and I can't help but worry about him.

Because Carl's my friend…I guess.

I stand up on the steps of the RV and climb up the ladder that leads to the roof. The mountains, the trees, the tents, Rick, Daryl, Glenn, I see all of them from where I'm standing.

The soft breeze that blew in my face, the smell of grass. I close my eyes and forget for a moment that the world ended, opening my eyes to this cruel reality after a few moments. I hear a honking noise, and the truck is leaving.

_Please_, come back safely.

Lori emerges from the tent a few minutes after, and I crawl back down the ladder, to the ground. I block the light of the sun using my hand while walking towards Lori. She stops when I step in front of her.

"Hi Eden." She smiles, but it's forced.

I nod, all of a sudden feeling shy. "Hi." I bite my lip and my eyes dart towards the tent. "Can—can I see Carl?"

Lori smiles again, which is a little less forced, and I give her a small smile when she pats my back in the direction of her tent. "Go on."

She walks in the opposite direction when I open the flap of the tent. Carl's back is facing me as he lays on his side.

I pick at my fingernails again, all of a sudden not knowing what to say.

"Hey." I say softly.

I see him turn around, giving me a small smile. "Hey."

I'm kinda surprised when he sounds a lot better than what I imagined.

"You okay?" I mentally slap myself. That was a stupid question.

"Yeah." He says it softly, and I know that he's worried about his dad.

Something I could never feel with mine.

There's an akward silence, and I felt nervous again. I was never good at comforting people.

I stop picking at my nails, finding my voice again. "He's gonna come back." He's Carl's dad. Carl needs him, and so does Lori.

Carl suddenly sprouts a grin, sitting up from his seat. "He'll come back." His grin regresses to a smile. "After everything that's happened to him, nothing's killed him yet."

I pull a small smile, a genuine smile. "Your dad sounds like an amazing person." I stand up and head towards the flap of the tent.

I'm glad he's feeling better. My friend.

He grins at my comment, and I feel the atmosphere grow lighter. "What about your dad?"

I'm out of the tent by the time he asks that question.

* * *

A/N: I feel like the second chapter was sort of rushed….xo xD

I'm sry if i got the events mixed up

&amp; woa O.O I was completely baffled at the follows, likes, and review list. Just wow O.O, I didn't think my story would get any xD

Til next time~


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: ch 3 is up!

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD

Enjoy~

* * *

Eden: Season One

Ch. 3: Holes and orphans

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I'm sitting next to Dale, analyzing for anything new that's going on, and for the first time in a while, I let my guard down in front of him. Dale won't do anything. He won't hurt me.

Dale's watching people with his binoculars, and I read from my book. He cracks a smile when he turn his head in a direction. I turn my head in the same direction and I see the women washing clothes, laughing together.

My book is left, forgotten on my lap as Dale hands me his binoculars, urging me to take a look. So I do, and I see beauty. I see the sparkling of the lake, the smiles of the women as they wash their clothes, and the laughter of Carl and Shane. And for once, I felt like the world never ended. Not _imagined_, actually _felt._

I snap out of my thoughts when Lori walks up to the RV.

She looks slightly worried. "Dale, have you seen Carl?" She asks the question to both of us, but most of it is more towards Dale than me.

"Shane took him down to the quarry." He looks at me for a moment, "There was some mighty bull talk about _catching frogs_." He adds.

Lori looks at me for a second. "Do you wanna come along, Eden? Play with Carl for a bit?" She gives me a faint smile, and I know it's one of those silent demands given by adults. So I agree, and I give her a small nod as Dale pats my head. I climb down the ladder and follow Lori to the quarry.

* * *

When we're at the quarry, I see Shane drenched, and Carl with a big grin on his face. I wonder if catching frogs is really that fun.

Lori appears to be unfazed at this, and a bit rushed when she tells Carl to always stay where she can see him.

"But Shane said we could catch frogs—"

"It doesn't matter what Shane says it matters what I say. C'mon, back to camp."

I stand awkwardly behind a rock as Carl walks over to me.

He smiles at me. "Hi."

"Hi." I awkwardly say, my hair covering my face. Good hair.

We walk together in silence until I see Ed—Sophia's dad, talking to Carol out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head to Carl and realize that he hasn't noticed yet.

Hey, Carl." I start softly, and I watch him stop to ask me what's wrong.

"I'm gonna stay around for a bit—you can go back." I say it smoothly, partly wanting to be alone, and partly because I was curious.

Curiosity kills the cat if the cat doesn't do anything.

He looks at me, confused, and tells me he'll stay when Lori walks by and ushers Carl back to camp, asking if I was coming. I give the same excuse to her and she gives me a pat on the back.

"Don't stay out here too long." She says it in her soothing motherly voice, and I pretend for a moment that she's is my mom.

"Ok."

* * *

I never really liked Ed, ever since I was in this camp. Probably because he reminded me of my own dad. I remember the many days where I pretend not to notice the fresh bruises on Carol's—Sophia's mom.

Because it had nothing to do with me.

And I was walking to where they were. My tiny hands clenched into fists, and I see Ed forcing Carol to come over to him. He and Andrea are yelling, and it's loud. And I see the rise of his hand while they're arguing—yelling at each other. Ed lets out a roar and he slaps Carol right across the face, and they fight. The women are yelling, and I see the rise of his hand again.

And I run.

I feel the pain hard across the side of my head as I try to stand up dizzily, my hair covering my face.

I heard Ed roar at me, "Who let this dirty, useless, orphan over here!" He swears again. Amy and Andrea are screaming at him, trying to move away from his arms. Carol is crying, and Jaqui is asking if I'm alright.

I fall back onto Amy and Jaqui. Shane is coming over here.

And I see red.

Shane is dragging Ed now, and he's beating him like a sack of potatoes. Like he was angry, and I hear him whisper very lowly to Ed's bruised and bloodied face. Carol sobs uncontrollably next to me as the pounding in my head refuses to go away.

"You put your hands on your _wife_, your _little girl_, _or_ anyone else in this camp, I _will_ kill you."

I'm struggling to stand up straight as I fall against Amy, the scary sound of Shane's voice still clear in my head as he kicks Ed one more time, walking away after Andrea looks at him with disbelief written all over her face.

I can only nod when she asks if I'm alright.

And the only thing that I could think of was that Shane never said my name when he was beating up Ed.

Because in this world, nobody cared for orphans.

* * *

I have a cool rag against the side of my head as I sit on a log. My head hurts, and I can't concentrate on finishing my book.

Stupid headache.

Carl walks over to me, his body blocking the sun for a moment, and he plops down, next to me.

"Hi." He says, tilting his head slightly, trying to see my wound.

I mutter a "hi" back, trying to silently tell him that I wanted to be alone. He has other friends.

"Are you okay?" He asks, and I'm stumped for a second before realizing that he was talking about my head.

"Yeah." I mutter it, trying really hard to concentrate on my book.

"What are you reading?" He sees that I'm not really telling him about my head, so he switches the topic. _Thank god_. Too many people have been asking me if I was alright.

I show him the cover of "pride and prejudice," and he leans over my shoulder and I know he wants to read with me, so I move the book between the space of our legs and he looks at the words, silence taking over.

I'm surprised that he wanted to stay with me, but I don't say anything.

We silently read together, and I let my brain wonder why Carl is so kind.

* * *

Sitting in the RV with Dale became a habit. I look up from my book as Dale cracks a smile, pointing at the small speck in the middle of the quarry.

It's Andrea and Amy in a boat, Dale tells me that they're catching fish. I internally smile at the thought of _real food_, since all we've been eating these days are canned beans and wild mushrooms.

"Hey, Dale?" He turns to me. "Can I see that for a second?"

He gives me a small smile and hands over the binoculars. I wanted to feel that sensation again. Of people laughing and smiling, and I do. I see Amy and Andrea, laughing in the quarry, and I smile at that, but my smile doesn't stay, because I see Jim.

And it looks like he's digging graves.

Dale tells me to stay put as he made his way to Jim. I watch them with my binoculars and I wonder what he was digging holes for. We burn our walkers, so that couldn't be it. My eyes trail to different places as Dale futilely, tries to ask Jim to come back to camp and have some water.

* * *

By the time my headache subsides, Andrea and Amy come up with loads of fish and proud, happy smiles on their faces. I climb down the RV and meet up with them, Carl and Sophia are already there.

Morales shows up with a big smile on his face. "Ladies, because of you, my children will eat tonight. Thank you."

Andrea smiles, and I look at the heap of fish. _Awesome. _

"Thank Dale," Andrea says casually, "It's his canoe and gear." She pauses to high-five Jaqui.

Carl runs past me and exclaims to Lori. "Mom, look—look at all the fish!"

"Yeah, whoa." She says, and she asks Andrea and Amy where they learned how to fish. They explain to her that their dad taught them, and Carl asks them if they can teach him.

"Sure," Amy jumps in. "We'll teach you all about nail knots and stuff." She asks if Lori doesn't mind, and she complies.

I turn my attention away to see Dale walking to the group, and I know it's about Jim.

"Hey Dale, when's the last time you oiled those line rails? They are a disgrace." Andrea jokingly comments. I don't laugh, because Dale is serious. Shane comes over and he points over to Jim, who's still digging holes.

* * *

We all walk over to Jim. Jim, who is digging holes like he's in a trance. I stop every once in a while to scratch my ankles with my shoes, the tall grass brushing against them with every step.

"Jim?" Shane calls out to him, but Jim ignores him like he ignores Dale. He keeps digging. Digging like it's his job, like he has to do this or else something bad with happen.

Shane isn't done with him, though. He tries to talk to him again. "Why don't you hold up, alright? Just give us a second here?" He utters a small "please" at the end, and I go back to wondering why he's digging those holes.

Jim sighs and looks at Shane, "What do you want?" He's obviously annoyed, and it reminded me of my parents who gave me the same look when I asked them a question.

Like I was dead weight to them.

Shane has his hands on his hips, "I'm just a little concerned man, that's all."

"Dale says you've been out here for hours." I hear a voice behind Shane, and it's Morales who says this.

"So?" Jim rubs the sweat off his face with his hand, and I hear a little bit of edge in his voice.

"So why are you digging? You headin' to China, Jim?" He's joking, but none of us are laughing, and Jim grins, and even if he's grinning, I know that he's not happy.

"What does it matter?" He asks, "I'm not hurtin' anyone." The shovel is practically glued to his hands.

Dale speaks up and tells Jim that he's hurting himself, "It's—it's a hundred degrees out here! You can't keep this up." I silently agree with Dale.

"Sure I can," and I think that the heat is getting to him. "Watch me!"

"Jim." Lori calls out, stepping away from Carl, between Shane and Dale. She tells him that no one's willing to say "it," and Jim looks even more annoyed than before.

"You're scaring my son. . . .and Carol's daughter."

Lori doesn't say anything about me, probably because I don't know her that well. But me? I wasn't scared. Not one bit. Walkers are the only things that scare me, not a man digging holes.

A man digging holes didn't scare me like my parents did.

Jim looks at everyone tiredly as he tells everyone 'they got nothing to be scared about', that they should 'just leave him the hell alone.'

Shane is now asking Jim to come back to camp with him, get some food, drink some water, and he tells Jim that he'll come out and help him. But Jim doesn't take that offer.

"Or what?" He says it like it's a challenge, and I knew I would never be able to say that to my parents. Shane tries to tell him that he's asking him, and Jim's next words catch my attention.

"Then you're gonna beat my face like Ed Peletier?"

I clench my fists. Jim didn't know. The way he treated Carol, the way he talked to her, Ed had it coming.

They argue, and Shane is calm, he's trying to explain things to him.

"You weren't there." It's Amy's voice this time. "Ed was out of control. He hurt his wife, Eden—"

"This is their marriage!" He roars, and it almost makes me flinch, but I don't. "Not his!" He makes a hand gesture towards Shane.

They get into an argument, and Jim accuses Shane, tells him that he's not the jury.

"Who voted you King Boss, huh?!" He points at Shane with an accusing finger, and his voice is sharp, but his next words are directed towards me.

"Who asked an orphan to get in between their business?!"

A moment of silence takes over as everybody just looks at me. I just stare at Jim, and he stares at me blankly.

But this is normal to me. Being treated like shit. And I don't care.

Because walkers in this world are _hated_.

Children with families in this world are_ loved_.

But orphans in this world? They get _nothing._ They have to fight. They have to survive on their own. They have to crawl their way through this hell by themselves.

That's what I did when no one helped me. . .until my aunt came along. But she's gone, and I have to crawl again.

So I speak my thoughts to Jim, and I have this strange feeling of wanting to so desperately convey something to him. "Can you _stop_ calling me that? My name is _Eden_."

I spun around on my heels and walked back to camp, ignoring the voices of people yelling at me to come back. Once they couldn't see me anymore, I ran inside the RV, flopping myself on my make-shift blankets, and I stare at the ceiling, remembering Jim's words. _Orphan_.

Jim didn't understand. Neither did anyone else.

Because even if orphans get nothing, they have _freedom_.

And orphans have _names_.

* * *

A/N: So, I decided to extend ch 3 for some odd reason xD

God, i feel like im making Eden too…aggh I can't find the word xD

Til next time~


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Ch 4 is up!

**Jazica, **thank you! I'm glad u like her ^^. **Green angel01, **thank you! ^^, yup, &amp; I kinda feel bad for making Jim the person she had to let her frustration out on xD. **Guest, **thank you! I'll try to update as soon as I can, but we all know that there is this horrible monster called school that takes away seven hours of our daily lives xD. **xRainyDaysxx, **Omg thank you so much! I'm a big fan of your River stories, and you are one of my favorite twd fanfiction authors, so when I clicked on the review message, I literally had a little fangirl moment when I saw you read my story xD.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD

Critiques are greatly appreciated

Enjoy~

* * *

Eden: Season One

Ch. 4: Fish, and Reality

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Jim is tied to a tree. I don't ask why, but I know that he and Shane got in a scuffle—at least from what Carl told me.

Lori and Carol are watching me, Sophia, and Carl work in math books that the others brought from a run. Sitting on crates and buckets, I watch as Carl and Sophia do their homework. This wasn't particularly hard for me. Before the world ended, mom hired tutors for me after school so I would be ahead of the other kids.

_You have to be better._

I push her demanding voice to the back of my head and start doodling in my math book, ignoring Jim's stares directed towards us.

A bit after, I hear footsteps coming towards Jim. Shane and Morales him some water, and pours it onto his head, telling him that he can join the fish fry.

I turn my head away.

Shane stays as Jim talks to Lori and Carol. Lori's telling him that he got sunstroke, and he asks Carl and Sophia if they got scared, and then talks about a dream he had about Carl's dad.

And I realize that he doesn't ask me, but I don't let that linger for too long.

Because I don't care.

* * *

"I built up the rocks all around." I turn to look at the fire, the rocks are stacked neatly on top of each other. I snap my head back to Morales. "—So that the flames can be a little higher, and have them be hidden." Lori smiles at him, and I let a small smile pass by me too.

I'm sitting on my usual stump, my boring book on my boring lap, watching as the people are preparing for the fish fry. I see the others unfolding chairs and I look back to the fish from before, and I remember the happy faces of our camp.

This is a small moment that we can enjoy tonight, and even though the world is dead, even though my aunt is gone, even though I'm still an orphan, tonight's fish fry will melt it away, and all of us will be just nothing but people—good people, pretending to be at a get together, just eating fish.

A good memory.

* * *

I like this small moment.

The fish that enters my mouth makes me chew it slowly, so I can savor the _real _flavor. Rick, Glenn, T-Dog, and Daryl aren't back yet, and I turn towards Carl. He looks happy, and I look away and lose myself in this happy moment, taking large bites out of the greasy fish and trying to listen to the conversations being passed around. By the time I was about to finish my fish, Morales asks something about Dale's watch, and everyone is sharing laughs.

"I've wondered this myself." Jaqui lets out a smile.

I see through the fire that Dale is smiling, probably less confused than I am. "I'm missing the point."

Jaqui and Morales voice their opinions, that the world came to an end, and yet every day, Dale's always 'winding that stupid watch.'

"Time," Dale says, "Is important to keep track—isn't it? The days at least." He smiles again, asking for Andrea to back him up.

I start to wonder why he keeps a watch now. Sure, important days need to be kept track of, but the world had already hit a speed bump for the longest time.

Sometimes, and this is one of the times—I don't understand what the heck is going on.

I push it to the back of my mind and continue to listen to Dale talking.

"I like—uh, Father said to Son when he gave him a watch. That it'd been handed down through generations. Said, 'I give you a mausoleum…of all hope and desire, which will fit your individual needs no better than it did mine— or my father's before me. I give it to you, not that you may remember time, but that you may forget it for a moment. Now and then, and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it.'" He finishes, and I wonder again, because I am utterly confused about the Father and Son thing. But I hope the Son was happy that he got the watch.

It's quiet, and there's a moment of silence shared between all of us.

"You are so weird." Amy says.

We all burst into laughter, and I laugh a bit too. Dale tries to back his quote up by saying it was by some guy named Faulkner, but we all keep laughing anyway. Carl and I share a small smile together, and I think that this is a good night.

I think that this is one of those unforgettable nights, and I decide to like it.

Amy puts down her cup after a bit and then gets up. Andrea asks where she's going.

"I have to pee. Geez, you try to be discreet around here." She walks off, and we all laugh again, and I enjoy this moment even more. I let another smile take over again.

Since the world ended, since my parents died, since my aunt got bitten, this is one of those times where I feel _really_ happy. Not just a bit, but _really_ happy. Like those times when someone gets you what you want for Christmas. I turn and observe the people around the campfire, and I like this atmosphere. For a moment, I forget that the world ended, and I notice I've been doing that more than I should, but I don't care.

Tonight was an exception.

I hear the door of the RV swing open, and it's Amy.

"We're out of toilet paper?" It sounded like more of a question, and I'm just about to put my last piece of fish into my mouth when a man comes up to Amy. Only, the man isn't alive, and he bites her arm, and in this very moment, I can only think of one thing, and it's blaring in my head like a siren.

_Walkers._

Her voice alarms everyone, and suddenly, we all forget out fish and we stand.

The whole camp is in chaos, and I just _stand_ there, watching as the walkers are _killing_ people—_eating people._

Lori seems to have forgotten about me, and she's with Shane and Carol, grasping Carl in her arms. Carol is carrying Sophia.

"Mom! Mom!" I hear him scream for her in her arms, and I'm dazed. He needs to stop screaming, so I tune him out, like I did in the woods.

I don't have anyone to hold onto, so I don't scream for anyone.

But I'm_ scared_, and the warning in my head is still blaring. Telling—_screaming_ at me to run away. I turn my head to the right, and then I turn it to the left, but everywhere I look, all I can see are _walkers, walkers, walkers._

Everyone is screaming through the chaos, and I see people from our camp getting eaten. _Our camp_. And I hear the tearing of skin and the swing of bats and the ring of shots, and I take out the knife that my aunt gave me, from my boot.

It only makes me feel a little bit better. I grasp the handle of my knife tightly, and I run.

I run in circles. The camp is in total disarray, and I run around, trying to ignore the gunshots, the blood, the stench of death. _Go away, go away, go away, go away._

_The walkers._

My knife is still in my hand, and I avoid our dying people, and then I come across Amy. Oh, sweet, kind, funny Amy, _no, no, no, no, no, no, no_. This _has_ to be a dream. _Please_ let this be a dream.

But I already know that _this_ is reality.

The gunshots are still ringing in my ears, and I see another person being eaten. Ed. I push down the feeling to gag, and I keep running, _dodging_. I close my eyes for a second.

_Calm down. Go to the RV. Now._

By the time my mind carves that action into my body, it's too late.

I feel something knock me off of my feet, knocking the breath out of my lungs at the same time. My eyes fly open, and I suppress the urge to let out a yelp.

Because a walker is _on top of me._

It's trying to claw at my face, and I'm pushing it back with my one hand, my other one clutched tightly onto my knife. _Get away, get away, get away, get away._

The stench of rotting breath is just in front of me as I struggle desperately below him—her, pushing its shoulders so it can't bite into me. This walker is—_used to_ be a teenage girl, with brown hair and sunglasses that my aunt would've called "gorgeous." But right now, it's a pile of bones and it _growls_. The flesh off of its face was eaten off and I see its teeth. Its rotting and cracked teeth. And it's trying to take a bit out of my neck.

I'm trying to get my knife into its head, but it got pushed away, and _I'm scared_. My knife is out of my reach, and if I let go, it's going to tear me open. I've never been this close to a walker before, and it's about to eat me. Millions of thoughts pass through my head as I see its teeth, chomping as it nears my neck.

_No, no, no, no, no. _

_No way. Not yet. I don't want to die yet. I don't want to die like this._

_I hate this_. I hate this so much, and I feel the yelling, the screaming, the gunshots, and the crunching noises close in on me. I close my eyes.

The walker is _this close_ to my face until I feel it being forcefully lifted from me. I'm still trembling as my eyes blink, and I see a figure in front of me.

Daryl.

He takes out a knife and drives it into the walker's head, and for a fraction of a second, I feel embarrassed for not being able to put it down.

But my thoughts are ended when he pulls me up roughly, and I sort of stumble a bit.

I share a look with him, and I quickly nod to tell him I'm alright, because he has to take care of the other walkers, and he nods back. My eyes then dart to his right, and I point.

"Behind you!" I scream it, and he whirls around and grabs its shoulder, stabbing it with the bloodied knife. He breathes and nods, giving my head a small pat when he runs past me. I touch my head.

After a moment, I hear the gunshots stop, and I was going to let out a small breath until I look at what's in front of me. I try not to gag, I try not to cry. So instead, I curse this world. I curse this world for changing, I curse this world for taking away my happy moment, I curse this world for taking _Amy_, the other people from this camp.

And then I realize something, and no matter how sad it is, _this_ is the _real world_.

This was a horrible reminder. A horrible reminder to all of us. That this world is _dead_, that people are going to _die_.

There are no more fantasies or happy moments to enjoy anymore.

Now, this world is just about _us_, and the _dead_.

This is _reality_.

A cruel, cruel, reality.

* * *

A/N: Hope you guys liked this chap ^w^

Ummm….i don't really have anything to say xD

Til next time~


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: ch 5 is up!

**Valana, **thank you! ^^, **smclendon, **thx! xD, **KT-Desu, **ahaha thank you ^w^, the zombie apocalypse is very cruel indeed xD

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD

Enjoy~

* * *

Eden: Season One

Ch. 5: Aftermath

.

.

.

What I said about liking the fish fry last night—I take it back. I take it all back.

The walkers that came in from the woods are dead now. And so are our people.

Our people.

It happened so fast. They just came out of the woods and started eating people. Alex, Charlie, Frankie, _Amy_. Oh, sweet, kind Amy. Amy, who caught me when Ed hit my head. Amy, who stayed with me the whole time and cleaned my wound. I close my eyes for a second and try to remember what they all looked like before they died.

Because they're all gone.

I'm lying in the RV, on top of my make-shift blankets. To my left is Carl and Sophia, who have the fronts of their bodies turned to me. And then there's Eliza and Louis, sleeping together a couple of feet to my right. I could tell by their puffy eyes and the leftover tearstains that they were crying a lot.

Guess that makes me the only kid that wasn't crying.

It's not like I don't feel bad. It's just that I refuse to cry again. My tears have already been used up on my aunt. But what replaces my tears is something that's equally as worse. And I hate that feeling, but sometimes—you just need it, or else you might break.

And that feeling's _emptiness_.

I don't feel up to anything right now. Like someone just took all the energy out of me from last night. Last night, when the walkers attacked. When they came out of nowhere. I clench and unclench my fists.

I _hate_ it. I _hate_ last night. I _hate_ the walkers that came from the city.

I _hate_ how this world decided to die on me. On _everyone_.

Outside, I hear Glenn shouting at Daryl and Morales about not burning bodies.

What? That doesn't make sense. We burn our walkers.

"Our people go in that pile, over there. Understand." His voice is muffled, but it's sorta commanding, in a good way. Like how my aunt talked to me. I miss her.

And then mind clicks. _Oh. _It's our people.

I try not to think about it as other voices from the outside are seeping into my head.

* * *

The voices coming from outside are still talking. About how Andrea hasn't moved from the spot where Amy died.

Amy. Funny, kind, Amy.

I pick at the dirt from my fingernails.

I hate walkers.

* * *

I turn to my side. Everyone is still sleeping, and I take a moment to look at all of them. They all look so different than me. They look less tired. Like they still believe that there's hope in this world. I wish I had that feeling, but I lost it when I was with my parents.

Because I'm different from them.

I'm just Eden. The girl who just happened to stumble upon a camp after her parents and aunt got bit.

Me. The girl who put her aunt down. Me. The girl who left her parents to turn when they got bit. Me. The girl who had her scars carved onto her body from her own parents.

I'm jealous of them. My aunt says that 'jealous' wasn't a very good word.

Used to say.

I push my thoughts to the back of my head, and stare at nothing for a long time.

* * *

I almost jump at the sound of a gunshot, which makes everyone wake up. I wonder who fired the gun for a moment until I hear Eliza gasp. Her head is turned to the window, and I stand up to peer out of it, dragging my eyes to two figures. The empty feeling comes back.

Andrea put Amy down.

She's gone.

Goodbye.

* * *

I stop trying to go back to sleep when everyone is finally up and awake. Nobody's talking. Just sitting in place, sharing glances all over. Although I see Carl fidget in his seat, but that doesn't count. I feel too claustrophobic in here, so I decide to get out.

I sit up and tiptoe across the room, feeling the eyes of the others watch me. My feet take me outside, where the sun is burning my skin again, and I hear the same sound of an axe colliding with wood. Only, it's an axe that goes into a walker's head. I don't turn my head to the source of the sound.

I see the large pile of rotting bodies from last night, all burnt to a crisp. The stench of smoke and flesh hit me a little too hard, making me move a couple steps back, where I collide with something again. My mind is fully alert, and I have the feeling of fear that it's another walker again. Another walker that's going to eat me. I spin around and then my arm goes for the boot in my knife, only to realize that I bumped into_ someone_. Not _something_. And that someone is _Daryl_.

Daryl, my _savior._

He has an axe held high in the air, ready to crack open a walker's skull, and I recognize the walker lying on the floor. She was from our camp.

Was.

"Whoa, kid." Daryl seems to be slightly alarmed at what I did—was about to do. I let my hand slip away from my boot awkwardly as I take a couple steps backwards, watching him finally bring his axe down. I don't cringe as I hear the crunch of a skull or the blood that's seeping out of her head.

Rest in Peace.

After taking a couple more swings at it, he stops for a while to look at me. "Thought you kids were still sleepin'."

I shrug. "I wake up early." _The gunshot woke everyone up. _Daryl doesn't say anything as to why I'm watching him digging an axe into a walker. But I think he knows that I'm different from the other kids.

I'm not crying, after all.

His pickaxe is now slung over his shoulder as he drags the body over to the truck, and I suddenly remember the holes that Jim was digging.

_Graves._

My hand is carelessly brought to my head, and I wince before I can scratch it. Daryl seems to eye me, and I silently curse at myself for slipping up. We have bigger things to worry about. _Much, much_, _bigger _things. He asks if I'm ok.

"I'm fine." I reply, almost robotically. But hey, it's a response at least.

Daryl doesn't seem like he's convinced. I watch him drop his pick axe and walk over to me. I take a step backwards. That doesn't help at all.

"Lemme see it." His hand is half way to my head. His voice is gentle, but I ignore it.

"I'm fine." I say it a bit too hastily, and I mentally slap myself for it.

"Kid, I just wanna see how it is."

I sigh. "Daryl, I—"

"Don't give me that bullshit." There was an almost familiar tone to his speaking. And when it finally clicked in my mind, Daryl was moving my hair out of the way to see the bump on my head. He whispers curses that my aunt would kill me for saying, and I almost wince when he touches it. _Almost. _It's gentle, but I feel like my personal bubble is gone, and I miss my little bubble, even though it's been trespassed too many times from my parents.

He lets my hair cover my bump when he's done inspecting it, and I step away again. "What the hell happened?" It sounded more like a statement than a question, and I'm quiet for a bit until I point to a body that's covered by a blanket.

Ed.

He looks to where my finger's pointing to, and then I catch him sigh. He looks tired, and then he glances at Ed's body again and whispers something that I can't comprehend.

I climb to the top of the RV, and I see everyone on the ground. Daryl's staring up at me for a moment and I stare back until my eyes hurt.

I turn my head away and I think back to when he asked me to show him the bump on my head.

Now I know what Daryl's tone reminded me of.

It reminded me of my aunt.

* * *

Another one of our people is bit. And it's Jim.

Jim.

And for some reason, I feel a whirl of emotions take over again, and I hate myself. I'm supposed to feel _sorry _for him. I'm supposed to feel _sad_.

But I feel nothing.

Is it because he called me an orphan? No—that's not it, I'm passed that. It's different, and the closest thing I got is that I'm tired. I'm not as tired as Daryl, but I'm really tired. And the empty feeling is back again, and it's settling itself deep into the pits of my stomach.

I hate this.

I'm still sitting on the RV, watching as another scuffle passes by. Rick has a gun to Daryl's head.

"We don't kill the _living_."

Funny he says that, because I had to do that before my aunt turned.

I think I see Daryl scoff, and his voice is muffled since I'm so far away from the ground. "That's funny, comin' from a man who just put a gun to my head."

My voice lets out something between a gurgle or a scoff. I don't know, but I let it out anyway. I look at Jim, and he doesn't look like he's okay.

I'm tired.

I'm really tired.

* * *

I don't stop to scratch my ankles with my feet as we follow the truck with the bodies. The bodies we're burying. From our camp. Not the bodies that came from the city. We _burn_ those bodies. We _bury_ our people.

"_We don't burn them!"_

I'm happy Glenn said that.

Amy's the last one to go, and Andrea's the one who puts her in her grave, refusing Dale's assistance. She's crying as she puts Amy in the grave, and I remember just how much I hate funerals. Carl is sobbing in Lori's shirt, Carol is hugging Sophia, and Louis and Eliza and clutching their parent's hand. But me? I don't cry.

And I don't have anyone to cry for.

I turn my head, accidentally making eye-contact with Daryl. He nods, and I'm pretty sure I know what he means.

I nod back. Today, we buried so many people. And today, our numbers went down.

Rest in Peace.

* * *

A/N: So yea, here's the daryl oc development. Forgive me for the slight oocness &amp; if there was a mixup of events. xD

&amp; if you're trying to interpret Eden's statement of being "tired," it's just the stress piling up from the night before, like with the other kids. Except Eden puts more thoughts into it. This definitely does not mean she's suicidal.

Not really much to say again xD

Til next time~


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: ch 6 is up!

**DustyClouds, **thank you! xD, **Wendy Nakamura, **thx! ^^, **AlexSmith2014, **thanks ^^, **Guest, **ahaha thank you! ^^

Extra: I've been wondering what kind of last name I should give Eden. The middle name has already been covered (it's Lorelei). So the only thing I'm stumped on is the last name xD. Any suggestions?

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD

Enjoy~

* * *

Eden: Season One

Ch. 6: Less people, and more doses of Reality

.

.

.

The CDC. Shane tells us that they plan to go there, that he trusts Rick's instincts. Rick says that they might find a cure.

Bullshit.

_Watch that tongue of yours!_

I'm sorry.

But it's true. There's no cure. But CDC means building. A building with big walls.

But it's a hundred miles.

Shane tells all of us that we're going to leave first thing tomorrow morning, that we need to stay together. So far, nobody objects to that plan.

I'm glad. Because we don't need less numbers right now.

* * *

All the kids are sleeping in the RV because of last night. That includes me.

We're all scrunched up together, and I try to fall asleep to their deep breathing. Just when I'm about to nod off, I hear a voice.

"Eden?" It's Carl, and for a second I feel relief.

_Calm down. It's just Carl. Not a walker. Walkers wouldn't be able to talk._

"Yeah?" My voice is quiet, and I turn my head to see Carl staring at me. Blue on blue. It makes me feel a bit uncomfortable, but my aunt said that whenever I'm in a stare-down, I can't back down. It's a common thing that happens in her family.

My aunt. I want her back.

He whispers softly, and I feel his breath tickle my skin. "Jim's gonna be cured, right?" He's asking me like I know what the answer is. And to be honest, for a second there, I don't even know what I should say to him. I _want_ to comfort him, but this is different. This is _now_. And there's no use in trying to keep a fire lit when it's already dying.

I'm still staring into his eyes. Those big, beautiful blue eyes full of hope. And I know that he won't survive if he's like this. But I just can't do this. I can't tell him that everything will be alright. That we'll all be saved. That's Rick's and Lori's job, and I don't even think they're telling the truth when it comes to that. So I just stare at him for a few more seconds before I say my one-word answer. The only answer I have. I understand the weight of my words, and I won't beat around the bush for something that's already a true fact.

"No."

Carl can't stay white forever.

* * *

Everyone by now has already packed and loaded their stuff in the cars. Shane's talking about channels and other stuff. I tune him out because I don't understand what the heck he's talking about, and instead glance at Carl, who looks the same. Same, happy, Carl. And for some reason, I don't feel the weight of my words crush me. Because Carl still looks happy, and I somewhat glad that I didn't bring him down.

Even though I might not be glad about it later.

I think he catches me looking at him, and I turn my head when he looks at me. I feel akward.

Blocking my thoughts out, I open my book and I try to read. It goes smoothly for a while, until Morales speaks up.

"We're—we're not going." Morales. Why?

It's silent for a few seconds and we're all just staring at Morales. My book slides from my lap, onto the floor. I don't even bother to pick it up. Eliza and Louis's mom says something about having a family in a place I never heard of.

They're probably dead by now, though.

_No. Eden. Stop it._

I hate myself right now.

"You know, you won't have any people to watch your back." I can tell that Shane doesn't want them to go, and neither does Rick. Their expressions explain it all. I don't want them to go either. Didn't they see what happened at the fish fry?!

Morales says something about taking a chance. What chance? You only get one. And you don't even know if they're still there! But that isn't where his voice hits me.

"I gotta do what's best for _my _family." I clench my fists, and look down at the cover of my fallen book. Of course. I'm so stupid. They have their own family to think of. And I was just being a selfish brat. A really selfish brat.

I'm sorry.

Shane and Rick are giving them bullets—I guess Rick suddenly became the leader—and all of a sudden, we're all saying goodbye to them. There's hugging, choked sobs, and tears. I look away from it. Eliza gives Sophia her doll, and I don't complain in my head this time. I didn't expect them to lay their eyes on me though. I hesitantly look at them both, and then I extend my hand to them awkwardly. Mom and dad did this when they were at their business meetings. They look shocked at my action, and after a bit, they take my hand one at a time. Eliza smiles at me, and I offer her a smile back—one of those polite smiles. Louis's not sure what he's supposed to do so I give him a nod. Another thing I saw my mom and dad do with business partners. He nods back.

"Channel 40." It's channels all over again, and I don't know what he's talking about. "If you change your minds."

My feet are suddenly stuck on the ground, and I pick at the dirt from under my fingernails.

They won't come back.

There's more tears, talking, and the rustling of feet, and by the time I realize it, Shane is saying, "Let's go! Move out!"

We all pack into the cars, and I'm riding in the RV with Dale, Glenn, Jim, and Jaqui. I see Rick tape a sign onto a red car, and then I remember that there was a person who saved him. A man and his son.

I'm sitting on the floor, near Jim, and we don't talk. Jim's either ignoring me or is staring out into space. I inch forward to the window and I see the remnants of dried blood and the sparking quarry.

Goodbye.

* * *

The air in the RV is dense as we drive.

Jim is silent. But every now and then, he lets out a few moans and he murmurs "I'm ok" all over again. I'm still trying to finish my book, and Jaqui is up front with Dale.

Jim is staring at me right now, and I feel really uncomfortable, but I don't show it.

"Hey." His voice is scratchy. Like he just woke up, and this just reminds me all the more that he's bit.

Another person to say goodbye to.

"Hey." I murmur it back, and I say it so softly because I have this weird feeling that if I speak loudly, then Jim might break from it. And it's so ironic because Jim used to be this healthy, happy mechanic with a loud voice—almost booming when he argued with Shane and called me an orphan. I want that Jim back. Not the one that's dying right now.

I want everyone back.

"I'm sorry." He says it in the same, scratchy tone as before, and I _really_ wish for his old voice back. He shifts uncomfortably, and I can tell it's taking all of him to try not to groan in pain, so I pretend not to notice it. It's the least I can do.

"Don't worry about it." I already forgave him. It's fine. We're ok.

I give him a small smile. A smile of comfort, and he tries to smile back but he can't. And I feel sorry and sad for him. I _finally_ feel sad because it's too much. And emptiness won't work this time.

I wish he wasn't dying.

We stare at each other for a few more minutes, and I don't feel uncomfortable anymore. Jim then leans over and coughs. I stand up and run towards him, and I see the blood being coughed onto his hand. It's not like the coughs that he had before. It's worse. Jaqui comes in with a bucket, and from the expression on her face I can tell that this is it.

This is as far as he goes.

And that empty feeling crawls back into my stomach again.

* * *

We lurch to a stop, and I almost fall over, but I catch myself. Dale walks out of the RV, and coincidentally, it's broken. Jaqui follows him outside and I'm in the RV with Jim, rubbing his back and steadying the bucket for him to puke his guts in.

He doesn't stop, and I decide to go out. It's really bad.

Jim doesn't stop me, but he brushes his hand against mine and I swallow the lump that's in my throat.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

I dash out of the RV and I announce the news. "Jim—he's needs help." I didn't mean _that_ kind of help, but the kind of help that Jim wants—or _needs._

There's a silence between all of us, and all I can hear are the discordant breathing patterns of our people, and the sad faces that aren't even bothered to be hidden.

* * *

Rick and Jaqui go inside of the RV. I move away from them and my feet touch the pavement.

I don't bother going back into the RV.

T-Dog and Shane get in one of the cars and drive off. I feel a little betrayed at first, and I think they're leaving us, but there's no way. Definitely no way. Shane would never leave Carl or Lori. Same with T-Dog. So that leaves me with a question.

Where are they going?

Carl seems to be confused, and from where I'm standing, I hear Lori murmur to him that they might've found a place.

Oh, good. A place. Jim can stay there, and he can rest all he wants. He can be happy, and he doesn't need to worry about calling me an orphan anymore, or this world. He just needs to rest.

Lori calls to me and ushers me over to where Carl, Sophia, and Carol are. I ignore Carl's stare, and instead focus my attention on my rundown shoes.

"Why don't you kids go play for a while? Just don't go too far." Lori says it, and it's another one of those silent commands. She's worried about Jim too.

We all comply to her suggestion.

By the time I know what's happening, I'm leading the two of them. And I don't have any damn idea of what we're _exploring_ or _playing._

_Eden, what did I tell you about watching that mouth of yours? You know your parents aren't gonna like that, sweetie, much less hunting with me already._

I'm sorry Lorel.

"-den. Eden." I snap out of my thoughts, and it's Carl who greets me first. He tells me that we're too far away, and then we walk back in silence. I'm still leading. Carl and Sophia are talking together in the background. After a moment, their conversation stops and fades away, only to have Carl start one with me. And it's a topic that I don't want to talk about, but I have to.

"Why did you say that?" He whispers it into my ear, so Sophia doesn't hear. And I know what he's talking about.

"It's _reality_." Carl just stares at me, and Sophia is looking at the two of us, dumbfounded.

"But my dad said that the CDC is gonna have a cure." He says it a little louder, more confident in Rick's words, and I'm irritated because he doesn't get it.

"You don't understand, yet?" I spin around, and the two of them stop. "Carl, people are going to _die_. And when that happens, when they get bit—" My voice is higher, and I don't mean for it to crack, "They _don't_ come back." The dead won't come back and be the same. They won't smell like cigarettes, or tuck you in bed when you sleepover their house, or take you to go hunting again, or scold you, or treat your bruises that you got from your parents, or say "I love you" over and over again.

Because they're gone.

Both of them are silent for a moment, shocked. And I continue. I don't want to, but I nothing is keeping me from it.

"Jim's gonna die. Don't you understand that _this_ is reality, yet?!" I want to scream at them. At Carl. But I might attract walkers, so I don't. "You get _bit_, you _die_, and then you _turn_. And you're gonna forget who you are." I spin back around and stomp away from them. I'm angry.

I run away, ignoring Sophia's whispers about me being "mean," and Carl's stare.

I didn't do anything wrong. This is the _real_ world. And if they can't handle it, then they need to know that this is reality.

The one who snapped me to reality the first time was my aunt. The second time was the fish fry, and the third time was when Jim got bit.

I hate this world.

* * *

When I get back to the group with Carl and Sophia several yards away from me, Daryl turns and stares at me for a second. I return the stare and I walk over to him. Daryl understands better.

"Are we gonna bury him?" _Is Jim going to get a gun?_

He pauses for a second, then stares at the RV, where Jim, Rick, and Jaqui are. "No."

"Why?"

"'Cause that's what he wants, kid."

The conversation is over, and I look down at my feet. Daryl doesn't move an inch from his spot, and we just stand there in a bearable silence.

Soon after, T-Dog and Shane come back, and Rick and Jaqui walk out of the RV with Jim. He's leaning on both of them, and it's only now that I realize that he looks tired. He's really tired.

Aren't we all?

* * *

Jim is led—or dragged to a tree, and me and Daryl walk towards the tree that he's leaning on, and we're waiting for our turn to see him one last time.

Rick offers the gun to Jim again. And I want him to take it, until he says that he wants to be with his family.

"I'm ok."

I'm sorry Jim. I'm so, so, sorry.

Everyone comes up to him, and when it's my turn, I kneel down and stare into his cloudy eyes.

"You're tired….." I state it. And I say it really softly, because Jim knows what I means.

"Yeah…" He says it in the same, scratchy voice as before. His eyes look far away.

I curl my toes in, my eyes on Jim, and i say the only thing that comes to my mind. "You're okay." I smile, and I'm trying really hard to not blink, to not rub my eyes.

He repeats it. "I'm okay." And he gives me a smile. _Finally. _A smile. And the thing that makes my lips curl up at this man is that his smile was _genuine._

Jim's gonna be okay. He's gonna be okay even without a gun.

And just like that, we leave him there, and we all walk back to the cars. I step inside the RV and look out the window, watching as the figure leaning on the tree gets smaller and smaller, and I think. My head turns back around.

Maybe if Jim never got bit, then I would be able to get to know him better. Maybe I could've been his friend. Maybe I could've forgiven him earlier.

I turn my head towards the window again and I see his small, skinny figure. He looks tired, but strangely satisfied, and I wonder what heaven's like up there. Or if it even exists.

Are you happy, Jim?

* * *

A/N: ok, so ch 6 is finally done xD

Still looking 4 suggestions regarding Eden's last name xD

Til next time~


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: ch 7 is up!

**Wendy, **thank you! xD, **DustyClouds, **thx 4 the suggestion ^^. Hmmm…I'm still taking last name choices but Platter isn't so bad…hmmm xD, **AlexSmith2014, **thx ^^ &amp; add a character? xD hmmm idk we'll see how this moves along first xD, **Amaya Albarn, **ehehe I will try 2 churn up the next possible chapters as fast as possible xD

**I'm still looking for last name suggestions for Eden. Her middle name is Lorelei fyi xD. Suggestions will be open….hmmm…..until the end of next week.**

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD

Enjoy~

* * *

Eden: Season One

Ch. 6: The CDC

.

.

.

"_Lorel, what's a CDC?"_

"_The CDC? Honey, it's a place where doctors go to find cures for diseases."_

"_Diseases?"_

"_Yup, that's right, kiddo."_

If I were still five years old, I would've believed my aunt. But I don't believe that anymore.

The stench hits us all really hard, and I hear the moans and groans of our people as we tiptoe across the dead bodies. I'm running alone, just in front of Daryl. I bury the small pangs of jealousy when I see Carl and Sophia with their mothers'.

Must be nice to be them.

I cover up my nose with my hand, which helps just a tiny bit until I use my shirt to cover it. I feel a walker brush my ankle and I snap my head down to its decaying face. I resist the urge to gag at the smell as I feel Daryl nudge me ahead. I almost trip over another one, but I caught myself.

"Keep moving, come on."

"Shh."

Everyone's voices are muffled now, and all I can make out is the coughing and the groans of Glenn and Jaqui. I tiptoe over a walker, holding my breath, refusing to look down again.

"We're almost there." I think I hear Rick say that. But I don't really trust him. What if the CDC isn't safe? What if it got overrun like my house? What if the place is filled with walkers? Walkers, oh god no, not after our numbers went down, it's almost dark. Where are we gonna stay?

I'm scared.

The coughing doesn't stop, and I don't release my shirt or open my eyes fully until I see big, garage-like doors in front. Maybe this is a safe place. Maybe we can stay here for the night, and then we can rest. We can do that, right?

I see Rick and Shane trying to open the doors, but they don't even budge. Shane bangs on the door.

Come on, _please._

"There's nobody here." T-Dog says it, and my breath catches in my throat. I suppress the urge to ask if we're going to die here.

"Then why are these shutters down?" Rick is looking desperate. We're all desperate. Please, I don't care anymore, just please, open up.

And then I hear Daryl's voice, and then I hear the low growl. The siren from the fish fry is blaring in my head again.

"Walkers!" Everyone is panicking now, and I hold my breath until Daryl shoots an arrow at it and puts it down. Thank god. But what catches my attention is that he's walking up to Rick.

And he looks pissed.

"You led us into a graveyard!" Daryl's beyond pissed, and I can't find another word to describe it. My mind then goes blank. So then we're not safe? The doors won't open? It's almost night. Are we just gonna die like this? But that might not be so bad because—

And then I see it. When the others are running back to the cars.

"The camera." I whisper, and everyone seems to stop at my sudden stillness. Rick seems to know what I'm talking about, and I sure hope that that wasn't some kind of illusion or mind trick. But Rick sees it too, and he finishes my sentence.

"It moved."

* * *

Everyone is staring at us like we're a bunch of wild baboons from the zoo, and I nod to Rick. He nods back.

"Both of you imagined it." What? Dale? Why?

"Eden, please—" It's Lori's voice, and I ignore it.

"No—I saw it too." I tilt my head towards her, and Carl and I lock eyes for a second before I break the contact.

"It moved. It moved." Rick is whispering it now, and Shane is trying to convince him. He's trying to convince him really hard, and I'm asking in my head why he's doing that. Because this could be our only chance, as slim as it is, we're left with no options.

No fuel, no food, no daytime.

Please, please, please, _somebody_. God, if you exist. Please open this door.

I snap out of my thoughts, and I see Rick brushing Shane off as he walks up to the door.

Rick, what are you—

"I _know_ you're in there." His voice is lower, and more convincing. "_I know_ you can hear me."

I hope you're is right.

"_Please,_ help us! We're desperate!"

Lori, Shane are practically yelling by now, and I'm just standing there, watching as Rick pleads to the door.

"We have _women_ and _children_. No food, hardly any gas left, nowhere else to go—"

Now Lori is trying to convince Rick, and then the alarms are blaring again. The alarms in my head are blaring as I turn around.

_Walkers._

I crouch down and feel for my knife. This time, it doesn't help me one bit.

This is it, we're not gonna make it.

"You're killing us!"

Rick, stop, please.

"You're killing us!"

Shane is dragging him away now, and I can only keep crouching until I hear a creaking noise, and then everything goes white.

I'm sorry for saying that we weren't gonna make it.

* * *

There's this moment of silence before we all go in, voices in hushed whispers.

I breathe deep breaths, taking in the sanitary air as my eyes scan the area.

Rick is the first to speak, "Hello?" No response.

"Hello?" He says it louder this time. I hear more cluttered whispers, and after the third time of saying "hello," a man appeared.

A real, living, breathing, man.

Thank god.

My eyes trail to the gun he has, and my eyes harden as I stare at him.

"Anyone infected?"

Rick is staring back at him. "One of our group was. . . .he didn't make it."

"_You're okay. . ."_

"_I'm okay. . ."_

I'm sorry, Jim.

The man moves forward, out of the shadows, and he's tall with blonde hair. His voice is rushed. "Why are you here, what do you want?"

Rick's breathe is shallow when he responds. "A chance."

The man says something about "askin' an awful lot these days," and I just stare at him through my tired eyes.

Rick shakes his head, "I know. . ."

The man with the gun looks at all of us, and when he glances at me, I don't look away.

Are you proud of me, Lorel?

His voice is rushed again. "You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission."

"We can do that."

The man finally lowers his gun, and then tells us to bring in our stuff.

He points towards that garage door. "Once this door closes, it stays closed."

I probably wouldn't mind that.

By the time my brain registers what's happening, Daryl is handing me my yellow backpack with the picture of my aunt in it. I nod at him and he returns it.

The man is now by the wall, and he's standing next to this large keypad thing. He talks to it, and then I remember my aunt telling me stuff about computerized voices. . . .or was it my mom who told me. . . .

"Vi, seal the main entrance. Kill the power up here."

The outside doors close with a bang that doesn't make me flinch. Good. No more walkers. I'm tired.

"Rick Grimes." Rick introduces himself.

I almost fall asleep while standing up. My mom told me—in between the slaps—that it wasn't proper to sleep walk. I said I didn't give a damn. That was only once, and the mark on my shoulder is the reason why I never fought back ever again, even though the marks kept increasing.

"Dr. Edwin Jenner."

Thank you, Jenner.

* * *

We're now following Jenner down a long hallway, to an elevator. We're all packing into it, and somehow, I managed to get landed right in between Carl and Sophia.

Just my luck.

It's silent, and I ignore the blunt stares that Carl's giving me.

Daryl breaks the silence. "Doctors always goin' 'round packin' heat like that?"

I look at the rifle in his arms, and he turns to respond to Daryl. "Well there were plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself." He then looks us all over again, and I return his stare. "But you look harmless enough." I see a small smile daring to come up to his lips.

"Except you two." He's referring to me and Carl.

Carl smiles at the attention. I keep staring at the man with my poker-face, unimpressed. I passed the compliment stage.

But I don't think Jenner's that bad.

* * *

A/N: Ok, that's the end of ch 7 xD

**If you have an idea for a last name, please review or pm me. ^^**

Til next time~


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: ch 8 is up!

**Amaya Albarn, **Thanks ^^, **DustyClouds, **yerp xD poker-face xD, **AlexSmith2014, **thx! &amp; I will be doing all the seasons, and as far as new characters, I'm not sure yet, I want to try to stick with the original characters so far unless I change my mind. So we'll see about that xD. As for advice, I'm a horrible person to go to for advice just so you know xD. Like Literally XD. But if you want to make your writing better, then I suggest you look over your writing when you finish writing it, make sure there's proper grammar &amp; the flow of the story goes nicely, as well as the portrayal of the characters. I usually look over my chapter several times before publishing it xD. **TheTalkingWalking, **ehehe thx! ^^ Ohh, interesting last names, thanks for the suggestion! As for Eden's &amp; Daryl's relationship, yes. There will be a "father-daughter" like view of them ^^

**Still taking suggestions for Eden's last name!**

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD

Enjoy~

* * *

Eden: Season One

Ch. 8: I'm Sorry

.

.

.

We ride the elevator for a few moments before it makes a noise. It takes a few moments for it to fully stop, and then we file out. Jenner's leading us down another long hallway, and I can't see anything past his large back. All I see is white, white, white, and I don't like it, but we're safe. Safe from the walkers.

But how long are we going to be "_safe?"_

There's the tap, tap, tap of everyone's footsteps as Jenner leads us from one door to another. My feet start to ache, but I ignore it.

"_Toughen up Eden, sweetheart. Complaining will get you nowhere."_

Are you proud of me, Lorel?

We keep walking, and then a small voice speaks up. Carol's voice.

"Are we underground?"

I start to look around me. No windows, I guess we are.

"You claustrophobic?"

Claustrophobic. Someone who doesn't like small spaces. When I was little, I thought I was claustrophobic, until dad locked me in a closet for several hours. I didn't feel scared—just happy that the belt didn't come out.

"A little." Carol replies.

"Try not to think about it."

And I don't. At least I try not to, but the only thing I can think of that can block up my thoughts are walkers, and that's not good at all. I stop thinking and follow Jenner along with the others, like a herd of lost sheep.

Are we lost? I don't think so, at least. . .since Rick and Shane are the leaders.

I pick at the dirt from under my fingernails, and down more hallways and doors we go, until Jenner leads us to a wide space filled with computers. I look around, and Jenner introduces this as the "big room." Literally.

He asks this "Vi" to turn on the lights. And then, I hear a buzzing, zapping noise, and bright a light fills the whole room. I never knew that there was still electricity after the world ended.

Lucky guy.

"Welcome to Zone 5." Jenner walks towards the center of the room, and we all follow him.

"Where is everybody?" Rick asks this, and I almost snort. Almost. "The other staff—the doctors."

They're probably dead.

_Eden, stop it_. Don't be like them.

"I'm it." Jenner says it smoothly, and I swallow the imaginary lump in my throat. "It's just me."

I'm sorry.

My tiny hands lay limply by my side. There's safety, but no cure. No cure at all, and it's only Jenner who's here. He's the only one, and everyone else gave up. No cure, no idea what caused this, nothing.

I hate this world.

Lori asks about the person Jenner spoke with. "Vi?" She says.

Jenner pauses for a moment and then calls out to the ceiling. "Vi! Say hello to our guests. Tell them—"welcome.""

"Hello guests—welcome." It rings throughout the room. Empty emotionless, and dull.

Of course, Vi isn't real. It's fake. Just a computerized voice that I learned about from my mom. And there's no one else here. No one but the man named Dr. Edwin Jenner.

"I'm all that's left. . . .I'm sorry."

I'm sorry too.

* * *

I get my blood taken after Daryl, and I make sure no one else sees my arm but Jenner. He stares at it curiously for a second, eyeing the scars, and I stare back at him until he plunges the needle in and draws the blood. I quickly wrench my sleeve back down to my wrists and wait until everyone's done. Daryl eyes me—probably why I acted so discreet, and I pretend to ignore it like I ignore my scars.

My scars. They're old, new, average—dull. It's taken me a full two years to be able to stand looking at them in the bathroom mirror, so someone seeing them wouldn't be that bad. Besides, even if Jenner does tell everyone, I'll just pretend to ignore it.

Ignore it like I always do.

* * *

After getting her blood taken, Andrea gets up, and my feet twitch when she moves unsteadily and has to lean on Jaqui.

"You okay?" Jenner looks at both of them, and Amy nods, making a small noise.

Now it's Jaqui's turn to talk, and she's tired, she sounds really tired. "She hasn't eaten in days, none of us have."

I put my hand to my stomach, and I just realize how much it's craving for food. I'm hungry.

I bite my lip, and then I see Jenner staring at us with a thoughtful face. And somehow, I have an idea on what it is, and a small noise comes from my belly.

* * *

We're all laughing. Eating peas, meats, and mashed potatoes. The adults are drinking wine, and I poke at my peas until Lori eyes me. That's when I eat them.

Everywhere around me, there's smiles and food, and then I see Carl try some wine. He says it's disgusting and then makes a face, and sometimes, I think that Carl gets more attention than he deserves.

_Stop it, Eden._

Dale offers me wine, but I smile and say no, because I don't want to turn out like my parents. The only person who I know that doesn't drink alcohol is my aunt.

Knew.

Shane tells Carl about sticking to soda pop, and Daryl's challenging Glenn to a drinking contest. I almost smile at the atmosphere, because it reminds me of the old days—when the old days were actually good.

Rick rises from his seat—to say thank you to our "host." And then by the time I knew what was going on, we're all raising our glasses and Daryl's saying "Booyah!" Everyone's smiling, and I think I see a small smile crawl up onto Jenner's lips, too. I take another bite of the chicken, and savor the flavor until I hear Shane's voice.

"So when're you gonna tell us what happened here, Doc?" He asks about the other doctors, and suddenly, the chicken in my mouth loses its flavor as I stare at him. Rick tells Shane that we're celebrating, and I silently agree until Shane bites back, telling him that we came here for this—to find the answers.

Although I never believed that there were any answers here in the first place.

Jenner looks at all of us. "Well when things got bad, a lot of people just left—went off to be with their families. And when things got worse—when the military cordon go overrun, the rest bolted." He finishes. I look down and go back to pick at my peas.

"Every last one of them?" Shane asks.

"No." I turn my head up and stare at Jenner.

"Many couldn't face walkin' out the door."

Please don't. Please don't. Please don't.

"They—opted out. . . .There was a rash of suicides."

I force a handful of peas down, almost gagging until I wash it down with water. It barely helps the sickening feeling in my stomach.

"That was a bad time."

Yes. Yes, it was.

Andrea asks him why he didn't leave.

"I just kept working, hoping to do some good."

But the good never happened.

* * *

We're walking down a long hallway again, and we follow Jenner to wherever he's leading us.

"Most of the facility is powered down—including housing, so you'll have to make do here."

Sounds good enough to me.

"The couches are comfortable." He pauses for a second, "But there are cots in storage if you like."

"There's a rec room down the hall you kids might enjoy." He turn around and crouches down to face the three of us, and I wonder if the rec room has any good books. "Just—don't plug in the video games, okay? Or anything that draws power."

All the more reason to read books.

He stands up again. "Same applies. If you shower, go easy on the hot water." And with that, Jenner walks away and leaves, and Glenn and T-Dog share excited glances.

* * *

Lori tells me that I'm going to share a room with them. It's ironic that she remembers me now, since she forgot about me at the fish fry.

Carl uses the shower first, and then when he gets out, I step in, holding an oversized T-shirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants. He glances at me when we pass each other, and I pretend to not see it as I proceed to the bathroom.

I do try to go easy on the hot water. I really do. But the moment the hot water hit my skin, I couldn't help but stay in the shower for just _one more_ minute. My hands find the shampoo and conditioner, and I scrub the dirt and grime from my hair, and I let the water rinse my body one more time before I switch it off and walk out of the shower.

Lori and Rick are the first people I see, and I offer them polite smiles.

"Hey, Eden. Why don't you go down to the rec room, hm? Play with Carl and Sophia." Lori smiles at me, a warm smile, and I don't want to play with Carl _or_ Sophia. I hesitate for a second before I move my legs out the door and down the hall, concentrating on the books that'll be there.

* * *

Carol's here. Oh, good. Thank God, at least I'm not alone with Carl and Sophia.

"Hi, Eden." Carol smiles to me, and it's another motherly smile. Sophia and Carl stop their game of checkers for a second to stare at me. I walk to the bookshelf and search for a book.

I let my finger run across the hard covers, and I slide one out. "The Secret Garden." I hold the book out and read the back cover as I walk over to the couch. The book is open, now balanced on my lap, and it helps me forget about the world as Carl's and Sophia's laughter becomes background noise, and Carol's eyes watching the two of them are nothing. I'm forgotten, alone on a shared couch, and I think that's good.

Peace and quiet.

* * *

"_Baby girl, I'm sorry, but you __**have**__ to do this, I don't want to hurt you."_

"_No. Lorel, Please! I don't wanna do this!"_

"_Look, this isn't the world anymore, Eden. And you __**have**__ to put me down. If you don't, then I'll turn into one of those __**things**__, and I'll come after you. You gotta understand, sweetheart. You __**have**__ to survive. The world has gone to hell, and I'm sure as hell __**not**__ gonna let you die now. So please, Ede—."_

"_No! Lorel."_

"_Eden! __**Please**__! Put me down."_

"_. . .I don't want to."_

"_Eden! I promise you, I will __**not**__ leave you to die like this. Whether you like it or not, you __**are**__ going to survive. So __**please**__, do this, for me. Run somewhere safe after this, and find a good group with good people."_

"_Bu—"_

"_Eden!"_

"_. . ." There's the nod, and then there's the gun. The gun in my hands, and there's that sad smile on her face._

"_Lorel, I—"_

_I'm being pulled into a hug, and I push back hot tears as I feel even hotter ones streaming down my neck._

"_I love you, Eden."_

_The gun is at her head, and a tear slips out. A choked sob escapes my throat. I can't bring myself to say goodbye as my finger makes the move, the large hand on my head slowly falling to the ground._

_And there's the sound, and there's the silence, and I cradle her body in my arms, and I cry._

"_I'm sorry, Lorel."_

"—den. Eden!"

My eyes fly open, and I look around to see Carol's worried face and Sophia and Carl's stares.

Oh my god. I fell asleep. I fell asleep and they heard me. Lorel, oh god. They heard me. They _heard_ me.

"Sweetie—" Carol starts, but I run out the door. Run to someplace with no one around. And then I hear small footsteps running in the background. Running towards me.

Go away. Go away. Go away.

Just _please_. Go away.

"Eden, wait!"

I stop, there's a dead end, and a wall is staring at my face. Carl catches up to me, and I bite my lip before I turn around. "What."

I didn't mean for my voice to crack.

Carl doesn't say anything, but he doesn't go away either.

"Eden, you—"

"Go away!" My sudden outburst startles him, and he still doesn't back away.

I bite my lip again, and I stare at the ground in embarrassment until I feel something dabbing at my face. A rag.

It's a small rag—probably something he got from Lori—and Carl doesn't say anything about it. I don't yell this time, either.

And neither of us say anything about the tears streaming down my face.

I sniffle as I clench my hands into fists, and I wonder why I can't bring myself to completely hate Carl.

I pick at my dirt-free fingernails.

My silent hiccups fill the air, the rag dabs at my face, and then there's Carl, who doesn't say anything as he stands next to me.

I'm sorry.

* * *

After a few minutes, my tears stop falling and I rub my eyes to cover up the evidence. "Carl," my voice is dry, "Go back to the rec room."

"I'm not leaving you." He's staring at me with bright, blue eyes, and I swallow the annoyance that's starting to bubble up.

I stare back, and my annoyance only goes up further when he asks me, "Why were you crying?"

I bite my lip again, breathing in and out, counting to ten. "It's none of your business."

He fiddles with the rag in his hand, and before he says anything else, I stop him.

"Carl, just_ please_, go back to the rec room." My voice cracks, and I bring my eyes down to the ground.

He doesn't say anything as he stays rooted to his spots for several moments before he trudges back.

"I was just trying to be nice." He murmurs it. And that's when I turn around and run back to the room. I fling the door open and bury myself in a bunch of blankets. The new book I found is on the floor, and I don't care about it as I try to bite back a sob.

"Shit, shit, shit."

"_Eden! What did I tell you about cursing?"_

"_I was just trying to help. . ."_

I bury my face deeper into the blankets.

I'm sorry.

* * *

A/N: A few more chapters and season one will be done!

I feel like I rushed this chapter a bit too much….-.-

Til next time~


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: ch 9 is up!

**Amaya Albarn, **ahaha, ur long-awaited update has arrived xD, **KelseyBl, **thx! ^^. I know right? I love Daryloc father/daughter relationships too xD. **xRainyDaysxx, **Omg you reviewed my story again, (this must be my lucky day xD). Anyways, xD thank you for the suggestion! I can't believe I didn't try the internet before anything else XDXDXD.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD

Enjoy~

* * *

Eden: Season One

Ch. 9: TS-19

.

.

.

I lay on the couch, across from Carl, who, thankfully, is still asleep. The same applies for Lori and Rick.

"_I was just trying to help. . ."_

Shut up.

I push the small blanket off of my small body and I tiptoe across the room until I reach the doorknob. Before I turn it I see the book out of the corner of my eye, sprawled on the floor like an abandoned little puppy.

I can relate, except I was the one who threw it away this time. I'm sorry.

Tiptoeing back a few steps, I pick the book up and cradle it in my arms as I silently open the door and walk down the hall.

* * *

It's quiet, and my eyes are scanning for a comfortable place to read. Once I find a nice wall to lean on, I hear footsteps coming from the other until they land one someone.

Andrea.

I stare at her until she stares back, and she gives me a wave and a tired smile. A really tired smile. It's forced—but I don't say anything.

Don't say anything like I always do.

I give her a tiny smile as she walks in my direction.

"Hey, Eden." Her eyes flutter closed for a second before opening again.

Guess Andrea's not an early riser like me.

"Hi." I say it shyly, and I feel her eye my book as I force down the feeling of wanting to hide it.

It's really akward, and we stand there in silence for a solid five seconds. Although it feel like hours before Andrea decides to start the conversation up again. "Good book?"

I look down at my feet again and I nod. "Yeah." It's more of a whisper. But still, she heard it.

There's the silence again, and I wish that she would say something to end this conversation. Now. It's stifling, and I feel like I'm choking on air, and that feeling sucks. It's like when you're about to cry, when you can't say anything to delay the tears from coming out. Although they do come out, eventually. Just like how this conversation is going to end soon.

My mind wanders to the front of my book, and then I hear her ask me a question. A question that I don't like. Not at all.

"What happened to your arm?"

My body stiffens, and I count to ten in my head. One. Two. Three. Four. . . .

"What?" Does she know? But if she does, then everyone else will know, and this won't be my secret anymore. Nope, she can't possibly know. I was really careful, and where Andrea was sitting—Oh shi—

_Eden!_

I'm sorry.

Five. Six. Seven. . .

"When Jenner took your blood test." Now she's looking at me, her full attention wrapping around me like a veil. I clutch my book to my chest, pretending it's the photograph of my aunt and me at Disney Land. Of course. Andrea was the one who sat near me when I took my blood test, and I didn't even think that she saw it. . . .

Dammit.

_Eden!_

I'm sorry.

I don't like this, nope. And the only thing I have in mind is to run. Run as fast as I can.

But I don't.

Eight.

My body's too frozen to even move an inch, and I can only stare at her until my eyes start to hurt. And that's when Andrea's suspicious of me. And that's when she makes an attempt to grab my arm. I dodge it, and I pull it closer to my chest as I run. Run as fast as I can, ignoring her plea to come back.

Nine.

And I mentally slap myself for how I acted, because that's more than enough proof Andrea needs to confirm her suspicions.

Ten.

And I'll get the pity looks. Those annoying looks that make you feel like you're a hopeless burden.

"_Everything would've been so much better if you'd got lost instead of Cal."_

But I'm not a burden. . .at least I hope I'm not.

* * *

When I walk into the cafeteria after running around for God-knows-how-long, I know that everyone knows.

Andrea must've asked Jenner, then Jenner must've told her, then she must've told Rick and Shane, and now all the adults know. I eat my eggs in silence as they give me the pity looks at least once.

Disgusting.

I sit next to Andrea, who stares down at me. I avoid it and open up my book.

I hate this.

But then Jenner walks in and everyone greets him. I glare at him, and he either seems to have ignored it or didn't notice it. Either way, I don't like him—or Andrea. And what I said about ignoring their stares, I lied. It feels uncomfortable.

Now my secret is gone.

I pick at my eggs, and Lori doesn't eye me this time.

I hate this.

Out of all the curious people in the room, Dale is the first to interrogate Jenner. "Doctor, I don't mean to slam you with questions first thing—"

"But you will, anyway." Jenner interrupts, and I take a handful of scrambled eggs and place it in my mouth. Powdered. But still, better than canned beans.

"We didn't come here for the eggs." Andrea. Of course, it's Andrea.

The room goes silent—just like last time, and we all leave our seats to follow Jenner. I fold the page of my book before closing it and cradling it in my arms.

The eggs are left, forgotten on the table.

* * *

Jenner leads us to the computer room—the one where he talks to the computerized voice on the ceiling. . . .Vi. I'm pretty sure that was its name.

He stops at a computer, placing his cup of coffee onto the table, and presses several buttons. I circle around the group and try to see what he's doing until he says, "Give me a playback of TS-19."

"_Playback of TS-19." _It's the computerized voice again. Suddenly, a giant screen shows up, and there's the loading bar. It's slowly filling up, so that means we have to wait while Jenner talks.

I hate waiting.

"_Sweetheart, if you don't like waiting, then occupy your mind with something. Count to ten."_

Ok Lorel.

One. Two. Three. . . .

"Few people ever got a chance to see this. . . .very few people."

So they all died before they even saw it.

Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. . .

"Very Few. . ."

Nine. Ten. . .

The loading bar is all filled up with this pretty blue color that would've suited Cal, and then it disappears. Images are shown on the screen now.

Thanks, Lorel.

We all move closer to take a look at the picture, and the screen is all full of blacks and blues.

There's also a brain, and the spinal column, and the left lobe, the right lobe, the fronta—

"_What did I tell you! Get a better score! Cal would've done much better than you. . ."_

Shut up.

"Is that a brain?" Carl asks, and my head turns towards him. '_Obviously, what else would it be?'_ I was about to retort that, but I've had enough talking to Carl. . .I don't want him to think of me more badly than he probably, already does.

But then again, why would I even care about that.

It seems that Jenner decides to answer Carl's question, and he adds a bit of praise to it. "An extraordinary one." He says.

I can't remember the last time my parents complimented me.

"Not that it matters, in the end." I snap out of my thoughts and crane my head to look at the brain again. He then talks about taking us in for the EIV. I don't know what EIV stands for.

"_Enhanced Internal View."_ My brain lets out a small "oh" as I feel stupid all over again—like at the camp. The screens on the side shrink and get smaller as the main picture gets bigger. The picture of the brain is now a person—a person lying on a table, and it zooms in so much that I can see bunches of blue and white lines are coursing through the brain. I stare in awe at the lines. It reminds me of the streamers we hung up for Cal's birthday party. When I was five, and he turned ten.

I close my eyes and let my mind wander to him, when he left us. Left me. Left me with them and decided to get lost.

"_Eden, let's play!"_

I hate you. Wait, no. I don't. . .but I do at the same time—this is all so confusing, and it got even more confusing after everything. And I don't know what to think at all the times when you were so "oblivious" to my bruises, pretended that nothing was wrong and got on mom and dad's good side. You didn't know what happened. You didn't know that things got so much worse ever since you got your sorry ass lost.

"_Eden!"_

I'm sorry.

"_Eden, what happened to your arm? Did you get into a fight at school?"_

"_Yeah, Cal."_

Ask me! Ask me if I was telling the truth!

I clench and unclench my tiny fists, and Shane asks Jenner what the lights are.

Jenner raises a finger, and begins to walk around. "It's a person's life. Experiences, memories, it's everything. Somewhere, in all that organic wiring, in all those—ripples of light, is _you_."

Cal and Lorel would've liked this.

"The thing that makes you unique. And human."

But are we really human?

"You don't make sense, ever?" It's Daryl, and I think he gets it somewhat. What's inside of us, the things that are inside our heads. . .that's what makes us _us_. I let out a sigh that I didn't realize I was holding.

"Those are synapses."

I remember learning about that in school.

Jenner continues with his explanation. "Electrical impulses in the brain that carry all the messages. They determine everything a person says, does, and thinks from the moment of birth. . .to the moment of death."

"Death." Rick walks up. Yes, Rick. It's death.

"That's what this is, a vigil?"

I know the answer, but Jenner says yes. "Or ra-rather, the playback of the vigil."

Playback? Then that means—

"This person died?" Andrea pauses for a second, "Who?"

The blue and white lights. This person used to live, breathe. This person was alive before. Alive and so well, but they died. They all die in the end.

"_Eden, what would you do if I died?"_

"_What do you mean, Cal?"_

"_Like, if I died—"_

"_Eden! I got a phone call from your teacher!"_

"_Mom—"_

"_Explain!"_

"_. . .I got a stomach ache, and then I had to go to the nurse. . ."_

"_And you didn't tell the teacher?!"_

"_It was during recess. . . .a-and Mrs. Harmon was talking with Mr. Stickler—"_

"_Come over here!"_

_I pause for a second, and I look down at my feet. If I even dared to look up, the belt just might come out. She grabs me by my arm and drags me upstairs. I don't even have to ask where she's taking me._

_Cal doesn't look at me. He walks out of the room and brings a box of legos with him._

_I wish I had died._

_Cal, what would you do if that had happened?_

_Because if you had died, I would've—_

"—Test subject nineteen." I snap my head back to Jenner. He sounds kinda sad, and I don't think further than that. I've done too much thinking today. So I just listen to him talk.

"Someone who was bit, infected, and volunteered to have us. . . .record the process."

And he still didn't find anything that would help this world.

There's a moment of silence before Jenner talks to the ceiling again. "Vi, scan forward to the first event."

"_Scanning to first event."_

The loading bar appears again, and I almost grimace until it fills up quickly and goes away. But then I see the brain again, and the white's gone. The pretty white and bright, bright, blue are gone. The screen has zoomed out so we can see the full view of the head and part of the body. And the thing that scares me is that there's something black in the brain, and it's moving. I bite the inside of my mouth.

This is a cruel vigil.

Glenn answers the question that's bouncing around in my already astounded head. "What is _that_?"

Again, Jenner has a finger pointed up at the screen as he looks back at us. "_It_ invades the brain like meningitis." Meningitis, Lorel taught me what that was. And it wasn't anything good, but _it._ _It_ is much worse. He then talks about glands and hemorrhaging, and both of them aren't good either. None of this is good.

"The brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs."

The spot where the brain was. . .it's black. It pitch black. No more pretty lights. No more you. And that's scary. That's really scary and I don't know why. So that's what happens when you get bit. I stop biting the inside of my mouth and focus on picking at my fingernails.

Goodbye.

"Everything you were or ever will be. . . .gone."

I know, Jenner. I know.

Andrea's crying, and I see Sophia out of the corner of my eye.

"Is that what happened to Jim?" She asks, and I keep picking at my fingernails.

That's what happened to Lorel.

"Yes." Carol answers.

I think Jenner's confused as to why Andrea's crying, until Lori pitches in. "She lost somebody two days ago."

Amy. Sweet, kind, beautiful Amy.

"Her—sister."

Goodbye.

Jenner walks over to Andrea, and she has her head down.

"I lost somebody too. I know how devastating it is." He's trying to comfort her, and she looks at him with those eyes. I look at him with those eyes too.

Because I lost Lorel.

"Scan to the second event!" Jenner says.

"_Scanning to second event."_

This time I wait, and I don't have to count to ten.

"The resurrection time varies wildly. We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient it was two hours, one minute. . .seven seconds."

Then there's a little light. It's small, and the brain is still dark. No blue or white—those are long gone. Replaced by a red. Small red lights that are slowly coursing through the dead brain. I take a deep breath. The little tree is sending out those red lights. Those ugly, red lights.

Lori looks astounded, but I think that we all are. "It restarts the brain?"

Jenner says that it only restarts the brain stem. That it 'gets them up and moving.' I shudder.

They should just stay dead.

"But they're not alive." Rick sounds unsure, wanting to have some form of confirmation. And he gets it.

Jenner points at the screen again. "You tell me."

We all get it.

Rick purses his lips together, and shakes his head, saying that it's nothing like before. That most of the brain is dark. I agree with him. I want the blue and white back.

"Dark, lifeless—dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part. That doesn't come back. The _you_ part."

I cringe.

"Just a shell—driven by mindless instinct."

And they eat.

The body starts to move again, moving its jaw. Open. Close. Open. Close, until I see a gun, and before we all know it, the head is split open diagonally, and the lights go away.

The brain stays dark.

"God." Carol says. "What was that?"

Andrea is staring at the vigil. "He shot his patient in the head." She looks down. I keep staring at the wide line through the skull. "Didn't you."

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to say anything.

"Vi, power down the main screen and the work stations."

"_Powering down main screen and work stations."_

The blue vigil is gone, and I'm left staring at where it used to be.

Andrea asks him if he has any idea what _it _is.

"It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal—"

"Or the wrath of God?" Jaqui says, and I don't think that isn't impossible. Jenner adds that to the list of possible causes.

Andrea speaks up again, saying that _someone_ must know something about this.

I doubt that.

And I hear Carol's voice after. "There are others, right? Other facilities?"

Jenner doesn't know. The look on his face says it all, and he tells that to everyone. Rick is asking him in disbelief—how he couldn't have known. Jenner says that transmissions went down, that he had been in the dark for a month.

"So it's not just here. There's nothing left anywhere. Nothing. That's what you're really saying, right?" She pauses for a second, and the room is silent before she lets out a sigh. She's finally given up.

Everyone's given up.

"Man I'm gonna get shit-faced drunk, again." I snap my eyes to Daryl as he rubs his eyes. I stare at him until he glances at me and raises an eyebrow. I raise both in return.

And then Dale asks Jenner a question. About the clock. The clock that I have never noticed before. "I hate to ask one more question," He says, "But that clock—it's counting down." Dale pauses for a moment. "What happens at zero?"

I freeze, and I turn to look at Jenner.

What happens at zero?

"The—basement Generators. . .they run out of fuel." He replies.

"And then?" Rick asks, but he just walks away. Jenner clams up and walks away from everyone, and that puts a really bad feeling in my stomach. So Rick asks Vi what happens. What happens when the power runs out.

"_When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur."_

Decontamination. That isn't a good word, but I don't say anything. I don't say anything about the bad feeling wedged in my stomach.

Because I think everyone is feeling that.

* * *

A/N: I feel like it's been quite a while xD

So now you know about Cal, and he will be unraveled even more throughout the seasons. ^^

School is killing me xD And my social studies teacher is unreasonable xD

Til next time~


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: ch 10 is up!

**DustyClouds, **ehehe, thank youuuu xD, ohh peanut butter and toast huh. A good combo xD. Yup, Eden will be appearing in all of the seasons. **Time of change, **Thank you, and I'll try to get to them in my free time if I can ^^. **Amaya Albarn, **ohhh, that would most certainly be an interesting theory! **KelseyBl, **thanks ^^, you'll be able to learn more about him next season and after xD. **Iahnirose, **Thank you! And yes, I'll be doing Eden in all of the seasons so far ^^

Thank you for all of your amazing suggestions ^o^! As for Eden's last name, with the suggestions and the reviews, it was so hard to decide! xD Ughhh they were all so good! So I had my sister decide, and she picked Williams ^^. Eden Lorelei Williams.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD

Enjoy~

* * *

Eden: Season One

Ch. 10: Zero

.

.

.

Lori ushers me and Carl back into their room while Rick, Shane, Daryl, Glenn, and T-Dog go somewhere else. Probably to find out what Jenner means. _Decontamination_. It's a scary word, and I don't like to think about it—oh, that's right, Cal knew some things about decontamination. He read all sorts of books with complicated words in them.

"_De-to-na-tion?"_

"_No Eden, it's decontamination, when the bad stuff from a place gets all cleaned out."_

"_Oh."_

Liar.

My scars won't ever get cleaned out.

The door opens, and Lori walks in while holding our hands. Her hand. Her warm, warm hand. It's alive, still alive. And I pretend that her hand is Lorel's.

I _almost_ reach out for it again when she lets us go, but I _don't._

I don't.

I instead climb onto the couch and open up my book; my backpack next to me, and I can see the small picture of me, Lorel, and Cal on one of our hunting trips.

Mom and dad never punished Cal when Lorel took us out for hunting.

Quickly, before anyone sees it, I wrench it out and push it into the innermost parts of my pocket. My book falls from my lap.

Shit.

"_Eden!"_

I'm sorry.

I'm about to pick it up until I see hands on it. And I don't look up because I know whose hands' it is.

Carl.

Kind, gentle Carl.

"_I was just trying to help. . ."_

I'm sorry.

He wordlessly picks it up and slowly hands it to me. And I know he still remembers last night. I bite my lip, because I don't know what to say this time.

He's still standing in front of me, and I don't know—but I say it. The words just flow out of my mouth and into his ears. They're unexpected, and I don't know why I said it, but I do at the same time. And I thought I did just fine until now. Until now—_no_. I still do just fine, but the adults found out about my scars. Carol, Sophia, and _Carl _saw me cry. And_ Carl_ ran after me. He ran after me, and he was just trying to help. Because Carl's kind. He's kind. That's what he is.

He's too kind.

Maybe that's why I ask him, "Do you wanna read with me?"

At first, I think he's stunned, and I'm stunned too. But he slowly nods after a few moments, and that's the cue for us. I open the book as he climbs onto the couch. It settles just in between our laps, and right before I'm about to read, I see Lori waving her hand up at the ceiling.

"Mom, something wrong?" Carl asks, and I wonder the same thing.

Lori turns to us. "Uh, Nothing," _Lies._ "It's just. . .the air conditioning stopped."

I pause, and then we just look at each other for a few minutes. The book is forgotten on our laps.

_Facility-wide decontamination will occur._

I shove my hand into my pocket, feeling for the picture, and then something happens. Lori, Carl, and I almost jump, but I steady my breathing and wonder what just happened.

Because the lights just went out.

* * *

We all quickly walk out of the room to see what's going on. And excluding Rick, Glenn, Shane, and T-Dog, everyone's out of their rooms.

"Why's the air off?" Carol asks. "A-and the lights in our room?"

Daryl pops out of his room with a wine bottle, and I cringe at that. He asks Jenner what's going on, but the beer bottle is then in Jenner's hand and on his lips.

"Energy use is being prioritized." Jenner mutters as he walks. We all follow him. Voices and questions. Oh, so many questions are being asked, and I can only make out 'Zone 5 is shutting itself down.'

_What do you mean by that?_

And that's when all the lights go out, and the emergency lights go on. The ones with the bright red color.

I hate red.

We keep walking, and Daryl maneuvers around us, almost brushing my shoulder with his vest.

"Hey!" He sounds angry. Ha, no. He_ is_ angry. "Hey, what the hell does that mean!?"

We keep walking, and Jenner doesn't respond to Daryl. Through another hallway and passed so, so many doors, the bad feeling stays in my stomach. It won't go away, and I trust my instincts. One of the first things to act on. And then it's dark. It's really dark and I don't know what to think of this anymore.

Zone 5 is shutting down. . . .

"Hey man, I'm talking to you!" Daryl's still angry. "What do you mean it's shuttin' itself down?! How can a buildin' do anything?!"

I wonder the same thing too.

"You'd be surprised. . ." Jenner mutters again. And then we stop.

Footsteps. I hear footsteps, and then I see them. Rick and the others. They're here. Finally.

Lori walks over to the railing and shouts for her husband.

We all meet up, and then we follow Jenner.

"Jenner," Rick starts, "What's happening?" It's not a question anymore. It's a demand.

"The system is dropping all of the nonessential uses of power. It's designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second." I pick at my fingernails. He then talks about more stuff. About the half-hour mark and counting, counting, counting. . .

And then what?

We're now in the big room. The room with all the computers and the clock that's ticking. It's ticking down. Down. Down.

"Right on schedule." Jenner says while gesturing to the clock.

We keep walking. We keep walking until we stop in the middle of the room, in between the bridge, where the giant platform is. Daryl glares at Jenner and snatches his drink from him, and we all stare, wanting answers for reassurance. Because reassurance is so hard to find these days with all the screaming, blood, walkers, and moving.

Wait. Do we have to leave? Because if we do, then we have to see the walkers. The walkers that killed Amy and bit Jim.

The monsters that bit Lorel and probably killed Ca—.

"—It was the French." Jenner says. I snap my mind out of my thoughts and stare.

I'm confused.

"What?" Andrea asks. My eyes turn to her for a brief second.

"They were the last ones to hold out as far as I know."

_Were._

Jenner looks at all of us, and I stare back.

"So they died in the end." It's a voice.

It's _my_ voice. My voice that says that to Jenner, and they all stare at me. The 'pitiful,' abused girl.

Jenner looks at me and I glare. I glare at him so much up to the point where my eyes start to water.

He doesn't answer me right away, but I guess he's unsure what to tell me. "Yes." He whispers. "While our people were bolting out the door and committing suicide in the hallways—"

It's that word again. _Suicide._

"—they stayed in the labs until the end. They thought they were close to a solution."

I snort, and I really didn't mean to do it out loud. Jenner and everyone then stare at me again.

"But they weren't close." _Because they died._

He pauses for a moment and looks at me. I guess I caught him off-guard, but I'm not proud of that. I want answers.

"Yes." He finally says. "They never found the cure."

CDC's don't know everything after all, Lorel.

It's quiet for a few moments before Jaqui asks Jenner what happened to them—the French.

"Same thing that's happening here." He responds. It's smooth and natural. And that only makes me feel even more uneasy. "The power grrid," He makes this gesture with his hand, "ran out of juice."

We all share uneasy looks with each other, and then Jenner's saying a bunch of extra stuff. Something about fossil fuels—but we don't like this. We don't wanna hear this.

The adults are sharing glances with each other, and I can tell. I can tell that everyone's scared.

Shane walks up to him, looking angry. _Pissed._

He looks like my parents.

"Let me tell you somethin'—"

Rick quickly rushes after him and grabs his arm. "To hell with it, Shane! I don't even care!" He then spins around to face us—his group, and tells Lori to pack their things. He's telling us to get our stuff and get the hell out of here. And somehow, facing walkers doesn't seem too bad anymore when everyone nods at Rick.

But this is still bad, and I'm scared. What the hell is going to happen to us?

"_Eden, sweetheart."_

I know. I'm sorry.

And so we all rush to the doors. I follow Lori at a rushed jog. Then alarms start blaring, and it's not the ones in my head this time, but it's a warning. We need to get _out_. I don't even bother covering my ears. We're not staying here. We're getting out.

We're getting out.

But then we stop. We stop to face Jenner and the alarms. I hear Carl's shallow breathing from where I stand as Rick has his hand on his back.

"What's that?" He whispers.

I don't know, Carl.

_Thirty minutes to decontamination._

I wrench my head to the screen, and I bite the inside of my mouth.

Gotta get out. Gotta get out—

I'm scared. I'm really scared now. It's the feelings all over again that are making my heart race and my breathing matching Carl's.

I'm scared.

Voices. Voices everywhere as Jenner turns off the alarms and Shane becomes the leader, telling us about getting our stuff and getting out of here, now. I follow the rush of people heading to the doors who are screaming, "Let's go! Come on!"

And I run. I run as fast as I can, because I'm scared. We're all a clutter of people and voices. Voices screaming at us to go, go, go. And before I even knew I was about to trip, Daryl grabs my arm and pulls me upright. We nod at each other and he lightly nudges me to keep going. Come on, come on, come on. We're almost there. Almost there. Then there's a hiss, then a noise.

And then the doors close.

I'm really scared now. Really, really scared.

Voices. The voices are here again, and I think I hear Glenn.

No way, you've gotta be kidding me. . .

Because he just—

"_He just locked us in!" _Glenn shouts just when I turn my head over to Jenner, who's sitting down in front of a computer.

You sick, son of a—

"_Eden!"_

I can't be sorry this time, Lorel.

Lori and Carl shout for each other. Rick and Shane are stopping Daryl from killing Jenner. And Daryl's angry, and T-Dog has to join in to stop the scuffle. I jog up to an empty spot in our scattered group, and they all have the same eyes as me.

They're all angry.

"Jenner," Rick says, "Open that door. _Now._"

It's a demand. A reasonable demand, and I don't know why Jenner won't comply.

But Jenner says there's no point. "Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed."

What? _No. No. No._ Lies. They have to be lies, right?

"Well, open the damn things." Dale says, and he's afraid.

Aren't we all?

"_Eden, when you feel scared, just call Lorel."_

I don't think that's gonna work anymore, Cal.

Jenner's talking again. About the doors. About how he can't open them. About how once the doors close they stay closed.

Now I know what he means.

"It's better this way." Jenner says, softly. Almost at peace, because he looks tired.

"_What is?"_ It's Rick again, and he wants to know what good comes out of all of this. But instead, he asks, "What happens in twenty-eight minutes?"

Yes, Jenner. Tell us. What happens in twenty-eight minutes?

But he ignores it all and faces his computer. That stupid computer.

Rick walks closer to him, and he's angry. He's really angry when he faces Jenner and asks—yells: _"What happens in twenty-eight minutes!"_

But Jenner doesn't take this anymore. He doesn't take anymore of us.

And he looks angry.

He _finally_ looks angry.

He roars, asking us if we know what this place is. I almost flinch at this voice, but I don't. And deep down, just in the pits of my stomach, I feel sorry for him as he tells us what the CDC's been protecting us from.

"Weaponized smallpox!" The list goes on. "Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country!" He looks at everyone, and the adults are stunned. "Stuff that you don't want getting out. _Ever!"_

I bite my lip, and Jenner slumps back into his chair. Like he's lost all his energy. Like his power grid has ran out of juice, and he wants to rest.

Rest.

"_I'm okay. . ."_

"_Eden! Please!" _

No, no, no. Eden, you can't think of that right now.

I return my focus to him as he straightens out his lab coat.

"In the event of a catastrophic power failure, or terrorist attack. For example, HIT's are deployed to prevent any organism from getting out."

HIT's? What are HIT's?

And of course, Rick asks Jenner, and Jenner calls for Vie, and Vie explains to us.

"_HIT's. High-impulse, thermobaric fuel-air explosives, consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition—"_

Explosives. Is that what it's saying? Like the fireworks that Lorel and I saw?

"—_That produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear—"_

There it goes again. The alarm in my head. Only, this time it's going _BOOM. _

_BOOM. BOOM. BOOM._

"_The vacuum pressure effect ignites the oxygen between five-thousand and six-thousand degrees, and is useful when the greatest loss of life and damage to structure is desired."_

I'm standing alone, watching as Rick hugs Lori and Carl while Sophia is in Carol's arms.

"_Eden, you know I love you."_

"_Yeah."_

"_And there won't be any stupid drama between us, but I'll say it just this once. Just because this world has gone to shit."_

"_Okay."_

"_Alrighty then. Baby girl, I will always be with you. In there. Right in your heart and mind, and I love you. I will always love you."_

"_I love you too, Lorel."_

"_That's my girl. Don't you dare let the world beat you down."_

I won't. It hasn't. But I can't stop any of this. I'm just Eden. An orphan.

"It sets the air on fire." Jenner whispers, almost content.

Jenner, just stop talking.

"An end to sorrow, grief, regret. . ."

Does that mean I can see you, Lorel?

"_Everything."_

My hands lay limply by my side as my lips are pressed tight together.

The tears refuse to come out this time.

* * *

A/N: Season one is finally coming to an end soon!

Til next time~


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Ch 11 is up!

**KelseyBl,** thanks ^^, **Juniper Haddis, **Ehehe, thx ^^, **Amaya Albarn, **thanks ^^** TheTalkingWalking, **Yerp xD thanks for the suggestion! **Iahnirose, **Thank you!I'm having lots of fun with writing Eden xD And I have plans for her in the future seasons xD

Last chapter of season one! Finally going onto season two! xD

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD

Enjoy~

* * *

Eden: Season One

Ch. 11: Trying

.

.

.

"_Open the damn door_!" Daryl's throws his bottle at the door, and it smashes onto the ground in a million pieces.

That's what's going to happen to us. We're gonna combust. Explode.

BOOM.

I'm still standing, standing a little bit away from Lori and Carol as I stare at Jenner. Jenner, this man who I thought was a good person but was actually a bad guy. . .like my parents—

No. Can't think like that. Can't think like that. They're dead now. They got swarmed.

They deserved it.

And there's the clang, clang, clang of axes and anything that the adults can use to break down the door. Well, at least try to break down the door, but I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon. That door won't open.

We're gonna die.

Isn't that right, Lorel?

"_Eden, don't you dare let the world bring you down."_

I know. I'm trying. But I'm tired. I'm really tired, and I wish I can just curl up someplace with the photograph of us and Cal, but that's not gonna happen. And despite everything, I've given up._ I_ give up. And I just want to rest, but I can't. I just can't, and I don't know why but I feel scared right now instead of empty. Why can't I just feel empty? I've already given up, already had a slap of reality since the fish fry—so why do I feel scared? Why don't I feel calm. . .reassured? I feel really scared like everyone else. This is where we're gonna die. When the clock goes down to zero, it goes BOOM.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

And part of me doesn't want to leave. Because if we leave, I can't see you again, Lorel. Or Cal, if he—if he's gone up there somewhere between all the dying and infection. And then if we leave we'll have to face all the walkers, the moving. . .

The people. . .the good people in this group that just might—

_No. Eden. Stop it._

But I just can't think about this. I _can't_ feel reassured, and the knife in my boot just doesn't make me feel better anymore.

This is where we're gonna die. Unless some sort of bomb explodes in front of the doors, we're gonna die here. Everyone.

Everyone.

But that doesn't sound so bad, right?

If Heaven really does exist, then—

"My daughter doesn't deserve to die like this!" Carol weeps, and I crane my head towards her.

"_Baby girl, you can't expect everything to be okay anymore because I'm here. The world has gone to shit, and I need you to be strong. I need you to look at reality and live. I'm sure as hell not gonna let you die early just because the dead decided to go Thriller(1) on us. You got that, Baby girl? I know it's hard, and it's only gonna keep getting harder, but don't let the world spoil you. Please, don't let the world bring you down. Keep fighting—keep fighting until you can't stand. You're not a Williams if you can't at least do that much. Got that? We __**are**__ gonna get through this."_

I can't cry now. I can't cry. I can't.

And I almost broke it. I almost made Lorel's life mean nothing.

I'm sorry. I'm really sorry Lorel. I'll keep fighting. I'll keep fighting.

I won't let the world spoil me.

I snap out of my thoughts while Jenner's trying to explain to Carol. About how this is kinder. Much kinder that waiting for the clock to run down, and I agree.

But I can't die. I _don't_ wanna die yet.

I don't.

And then there's the familiar click of a shotgun, and I turn my head to Daryl, but he's not doing anything. Huh? It's not Daryl this time? But then Shane shouts, and Rick's trying to stop him, and Shane has a gun in his hands and he's ready to shoot at Jenner.

Looks like he finally snapped too.

"Open that door, or I'm gonna blow your head off. Do you hear me!" Shane's sounds so scary, and it reminds of my parents when they yelled at me once for not winning my school spelling B.

Rick is muttering to Shane, and I only catch bits and pieces as I stand right in front of them, in the same spot as before. I can only stand and watch until Shane roars, and that's when I feel someone grab my arm and yank me away from them. Daryl. Daryl drags me to the other side. Away from the yelling, the fighting, the gunshots.

"Don't look." He says, and I can only crouch under one of the computers as he crouches down next to me as the roaring keeps going, and everyone's screaming. And I just feel so downright scared because _this_ is just scary. Really scary. And there's a scuffle, and the gun fires off so many rounds at once and all I can see between the crack of the desk and Daryl is millions of glass shards from the computers and machines flying all over the place. And when it's finally over, I don't stop covering my head with my arms until Daryl lightly puts his hand on my head and tells me it's over. His hand is warm, and for a second, it reminds me of Cal until I crane my head to Shane who is lying on the ground, being asked by Rick: "You done now? You done?" and I look around at the mess.

"Yeah, I guess we all are." Shane sounds tired, like he's given up.

I can kinda relate.

We all just stand in silence until Rick tells Jenner he's lying. I stand next to Daryl.

How is Jenner lying? He locked the doors and won't let us out—

"About no hope." Rick finishes.

Oh.

"If that were true, you would've bolted with the rest. Or taken the easy way out." Rick says, and I look at Jenner.

He's tired.

He's really tired.

But he didn't pick dying. He didn't.

He didn't.

Ricks asks why. Why he chose the hard path instead, but Jenner says it doesn't matter.

But it does.

"It does matter. It _always_ matters. You stayed when the others ran. _Why_?"

Why, Jenner. Why?

"Not because I wanted to." I don't move, and Jenner talks about how he made a promise. To _her._

To TS-19.

His wife.

I look over next to me and find that Daryl's gone at working on the door again. I stand, watching as Jenner tells us that his wife wanted him to keep going as long as he can, that he should've been the one on the table, that his wife could've done something about this. That he was just _Edwin Jenner_.

Just.

But Jenner did so much for us. And he kept his promise.

I'm sorry I almost called you a—

"Your wife didn't have a choice. _You_ do." Rick sounds desperate, and I bite my lip because I'm not sure what Jenner's gonna do. Is he gonna open the door? But if he opens the door then. . .

What am I going to do?

Rick is talking about giving us a chance, a _choice_.

"Let us keep _trying_ for as long as we can." Lori jumps in, and I could barely believe that it's Lori who says it, because she looks so frail—so scared.

So desperate.

_Try._

"_Don't you dare let the world beat you down."_

And then Jenner's saying something—something about the top side being locked down and that he can't open those. He's pushing some buttons on this control and something flutters in my stomach, and I look at the clock as I hear the doors open.

Four minutes.

"_We are gonna get through this."_

Yeah, we are.

Four minutes to get our stuff and get the hell out of here.

"_That's my girl."_

Yeah, Lorel. Are you proud of me?

* * *

We are gonna get through this, and Jenner holds up to his word. The front doors are shut tight, and there's glass separating us from the outside word.

But they won't break. The glass won't break.

And I know it's selfish of me, but I kinda—just kinda wish that I stayed behind with Jaqui and Andrea.

And we try everything. We try the axes, the chairs. Shane shoots a bullet, but it doesn't work. The glass. . .it just—

"The glass won't break?" Sophia's frail and squeaky voice comes out, and it meshes into the millions of voices going through the room, just trying to get us _out_. And I'm just about to _really_ give up until Carol hands Rick something.

A bomb.

"_It's a grenade, sweetheart."_

BOOM. And it's a good boom, and my stomach flutters again when we're told to get down.

We're getting out. We're getting out.

We're gonna be okay.

And then the bomb goes BOOM and Rick goes flying towards us. I look up at the shattered window, and we all run. We push each other to move faster to the cars, and I completely disregard the walkers here this time.

Because we're gonna be okay.

Lori drags me and Carl with her, and I'm practically smashed in between Carl and Rick as the door closes.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!" Lori cries out and points, and we all look in the same direction, and I want to cry.

It's Dale and Andrea, and they're coming. Yes—thank God, they're coming with us, and Jaqui—

Jaqui's not with them.

Why?

But I can't worry about that anymore when Rick tells us all to get down and we're pushed in the back.

And it all goes BOOM.

The sound hurts my ears and makes them ring, but I still force myself to look as the CDC crumbles to the ground in a big pile of fire and debris.

Goodbye Jaqui. Goodbye Jenner.

It's gone. They're gone.

And we ride out, and I stare at the CDC for a long time, the place where I thought was a good place to die. But we didn't die. We _survived_. We're survivors until we become one of _them_. One of _them._ And I don't wanna think about it, but this is the world now, and the _me _in the CDC is burning. Burning until I can't see it anymore.

And then I look ahead. Away from the burning CDC. Ahead of the burning, the walkers, and the dying. Goodbye, me. Goodbye Jenner. Goodbye Jaqui. I'll put this past me, and I'll survive. Survive until I can't anymore, and when I finally go down, I'll go to where you are, Lorel. But I can't imagine going to where you are somehow. I guess I _don't_ _wanna_ go to you yet. It's just that—I think I might feel comfortable with this group. With these people. These _good_ people. So I'll look ahead, with our people and the picture of you that's in my pocket.

My head is focused on the road as we all ride in a dazed silence—with all of the things that happened so far. And slowly, I raise my head up and look at the sky. The pretty, blue sky.

And I smile.

Because for once, I think that this world looks beautiful.

* * *

A/N: Season one is finally finished XDXDXD

you know the music video of "Thriller" by Micheal Jackson, then u know where I'm coming from. (Or at least, that's what I remember from my memory xD)

You can expect season two to be up in a week or so ^^

Til next season~


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